The Composition of a Soul
by Tenbris
Summary: Soul is a man-made demon, built from lost body parts of other demons. His life has always been a game of cat-and-mouse. Then he met Maka, a human with a strange soul, and everything both came together and fell apart. [The Recipe for Gertrude AU] [ResBang 2014]
1. Chapter 1

A dark silhouette passed in front of the crescent moon.

The figure flew through the air, moving quickly. A sharp crack resounded in the night, and with it came a brief flash of light. The figure, a young-looking boy with snowy hair and viciously red eyes, swore quietly and turned around to fly in another direction, but a dark form like a snake shot from the ground and blocked his way. He whirled around to face the direction from which the flash came.

"Show yourselves if you're going to just block me off instead of killing me, you cowardly bastards," he spat.

"Now now," rang a new voice, distinctively male but young and boisterous. "Only _one_ of us is a bastard, and I'm no coward." Two more joined the white haired boy in the sky, shooting up off of the ground to level with him. "Tsubaki is a _lady_ and she deserves to be treated as such, especially by such a _non-factor_ as you, Soul," snarled the shorter of the two new figures. The moon's light lit their features. The boy was of an average height with shockingly blue hair beneath his hood, and his dark cloak fluttered in the wind. The second of them was much taller, standing a good head taller than her companion. Her cloak and hair both were jet-black, making her face the only thing easily visible in the night, but her features were elegant and soft. Still, there was something ferocious in her eyes, in both of their eyes. Something dangerous.

Soul, the boy with the red eyes, sneered in their direction as he edged his way backwards, careful to not make contact with the shadow behind him. "Non-factor? As if," he retorted. "You two followed me across a goddamn ocean _and then some _once you figured out where I was_, _and you still haven't managed to take me out. I think that speaks volumes about who the weak ones are here, Black*Star."

Black*Star sputtered, searching for a retort, but his companion placed her hand in front of him in light restraint. "Your powers are nothing to take lightly, Soul," she said, "but that doesn't change your origin. You barely deserve life. Nothing but deception surrounds your existence, and those stronger than us are after you as well. We _will_ take them back, one way or another."

"At least _one_ of you is well-spoken," yawned Soul, glancing at the moon and gnawing on his index finger a bit. "Still, I don't give a shit about what you think. You're not getting jack from me, and neither is anyone else."

He dipped both his hands into his jacket and watched as shadows given form rose off of the ground to writhe around Black*Star and Tsubaki. It was about time, he supposed. Sticking around any longer could be risky; this was the first time they had caught up with him since the chase began, and jeer as he might they were dangerous. These two were known for their mastery of shadows, and any misstep and they could temporarily control _your_ shadow, making you into naught more than a puppet.

Tsubaki observed Soul's movements with a critical eye. "Planning on teleporting out?" she asked. Magic crackled in the air around Soul, giving away his intention to flee. "There's no way that you can cover your tracks in less than the second it would take for us to pinpoint your target location." Black*Star nodded furiously next to his partner and added in a few incoherent battle shouts for good measure. The shadows twisted and tangled into a larger mass, rising off of the ground in alarming quantities now. One shot out to strike out at Soul, who grimaced when it bit into his shoulder but made no audible expression of pain.

And with a loud sucking noise and a few sparks, Soul disappeared.

"You bastard, you won't get away this ti– argh!" As he launched himself towards the quickly fading vortex that had enveloped Soul, Black*Star's cry was cut short by something thudded into his body. Tsubaki's brief cry of pain alerted him that he was not the only target. Traces of the spell on the shrapnel sparked and faded as their brief flight ended.

Tsubaki floated over to her companion and winced as she removed the offending material from their torsos. Holding a piece up to the crescent moon's light, she examined it. "Blades?" she wondered out loud. The sharp chunk of metal was enough to pierce flesh, but it was obviously crudely made. Each of the pieces, six in total, was about the size of her hand, and she turned them over in her palm while Black*Star cursed Soul's existence. Writing scrawled messily in black glared back at her from the shrapnel.

When Tsubaki huffed in frustration and threw the shards to the ground Black*Star snapped out of his rage. "What was it?" he asked, arm slung over his torso to cover the wounds. "Did he fucking throw that crap at us?"

She shook her head and watched the spot where Soul had disappeared. "No. He cursed them with his blood. It's that spell we had heard he used; writing it on an object in his blood bends it to his will. He probably was carrying just one block of steel with him and he hid it in his jacket. When things got dangerous, he used it to distract us long enough to escape."

With a groan, Black*Star fell backwards to splay himself out on a shadow. "Fuck," he swore. "That worthless sack of shit." He looked to Tsubaki, who had removed her hood to watch the moon. "We're gonna get them back, you know. I promise. He won't get away with it."

His words were honest and fervent. "I know," she whispered back with a smile.

_Frailty, thy name is steel._

* * *

><p>Maka sighed as she picked her way through the dilapidated houses in an abandoned neighborhood. It wasn't unlikely that in one of them there would be some sort of tweaked-out druggie, but it was the easiest shortcut that lead to her school from home. She <em>refused<em> to be late to homeroom because her father just _had_ to plead for her to eat the bear-shaped pancakes he had made that morning rather than some dry toast, then begged for an _extra-long_ hug. His affections weren't unwanted, but there was certainly a more appropriate time for them than on a Monday morning before school.

Her eyes shifted between the houses. Many had peeling paint and broken or totally missing windows; some were overgrown by weeds, while others had no lawns (weed-based or otherwise) of which to speak. Still, she wondered what had caused the abandonment. As far as the houses were concerned, they weren't particularly unattractive once you looked past the effects of being left to the elements. They were small, likely made for single families who didn't need extravagant amounts of space, and the surrounding areas weren't particularly bad neighborhoods.

Curious or not, Maka forced herself onward. She was still a good fifteen minutes away from her school, and her brisk jog had slowed to a leisurely walk while she looked at the houses.

Two more steps and she entered another yard, this one belonging to a particularly run-down specimen. Except... it _wasn't._ Maka's feet stilled as the air shimmered around her. Broken windows, lined with shards of glass, phased unstably into solid panes of glass. Peeling paint smoothed over and seemed to tremble. Grass faded in and out of existence on the once-bare lawn. The hairs on Maka's neck stood on end as the world seemed to warp. She took a shaky step back and everything stabilized again. Everything looked like it belonged in the neighborhood; the house was in the worst shape of them all. But with an uncertain shift forward everything began to change again.

A cold and dense feeling settled deep in Maka's stomach and she hesitated. It would be all too easy to turn around and find another path through these houses to reach her school, or even to backtrack out of the neighborhood and go her usual route. Shimmering air that made what _was_ into something that previously _wasn't_ obviously did not fit into "normal." It probably didn't fit into "safe" either, and she should probably notify the police.

Even so, her curiosity spurred her forward.

Two more steps in and the shimmering stopped. The house and its surrounding area settled into the more well-kept form, images of shattered glass and peeled paint fading. Maka let out a breath that she did not know she had been holding; perhaps there was something strange in the air, some static field or mirage of some sort, but getting closer would dispel it. There had to be an explanation.

"Having fun?"

The deep exhalation of relief choked in Maka's throat. The voice, deep and masculine, had come from right behind her, and a trembling emotion that echoed faintly of fear tingled through her chest and limbs. Without making sudden movements, she slowly and deliberately turned to face the voice's source.

He slouched, shoulders hunched inward almost protectively over himself, but Maka could tell that he was tall. Deeming him more lanky than muscular, Maka ran over the self-defense techniques she knew with that in mind; she could likely take him unless he had studied some sort of fighting himself, and the wound on his shoulder would be an advantage on her side. He likely wouldn't be able to put much force behind strikes coming from his right arm.

Maka summed up her courage and stood up straight, farce as it was. If he was planning to attack her, she would fight back. "Who are you?" she asked, and she was proud when her voice didn't waver like her soul was.

He crinkled his eyebrows and looked her up and down. "You're not one of them," he stated, and then he narrowed his eyes. "Why the hell are you here?"

"One of _who_?" asked Maka. Her eyes flickered to her side, to the house that had changed, and she considered dropping this entire _insanity_ to just escape. "I'm just going to school, and you're making me late. This is the shortest way between there and my house."

His face lit up with understanding, but confusion and wariness was still reflected in his deep red eyes. "Oh. You're going to school. Uh. Okay, I guess." He shrugged, watching Maka as she shifted from one foot to the other.

"Yeah. So... can I go now?" It was difficult to keep still with his gaze following her every move.

His eyes narrowed a bit once again. "Sure. Let me ask you something first, though."

"Uh," Maka grasped for words. "Okay?"

"Do you have any sort of interest in the occult? Y'know, fortune telling, rituals, black magic. I'm looking for an, ah, instruction manual."

Without knowing exactly why, Maka shivered. Something had changed in the boy, and the chagrin at his earlier suspicions of her had been replaced by a steely gaze. His eyes did not leave her face, and her pulse sped up. "No," she squeaked, courage draining away. "I've read books on those things, but they're just fiction. Fantasy is just that, fantasy."

He eyed her a bit more, as if he were searching her very being, but then he slumped over more in defeat and sighed. "Ah, no kidding? Oh well, thanks anyways."

Maka beamed at him, relieved to be out of his probing stare. Her pulse still thundered in her veins, pumping adrenaline through her body. "Yeah! Well, it's been a nice chat, and sorry I couldn't help you, but I _really_ have to be going now, and–"

Close. He was too close. Maka's words died in her throat and came out instead as a whimper. The boy was looming over her, eyes practically glowing. He had covered the gap between them, a few meters, in what seemed like an instant, and Maka couldn't help but wonder _what_ he was. She had no time to think, though, as he raised a hand as if to cover her face with his open palm.

"Wait," she squeaked, and by some miracle he stopped. Still, something dark had begun to gather around his hands; it was like a thin black mist, and every moment let it thicken more. "You're not human." He did not deny her, so she continued. "What _are _you?"

He grinned, and his teeth were pointed and sharp. Something dangerous glinted in his eyes, and the darkness thickened. "I guess... a demon?"

The sound of flesh crumpling to the floor in a limp heap was loud but quick.

Maka stood trembling over the boy's body. A demon? Her heart was pounding, and the novel she had kept in her satchel slipped from her fingers, a heavy dent visible in its spine. He had said he was a demon. His teeth and eyes certainly were demonic enough. And there was no denying that she had witnessed strange events taking place; the house had wavered between run-down and in pristine condition in front of her eyes, the boy had appeared out of nowhere and moved exceptionally quickly, and whatever he had been planning to do with his hand was at the very least suspicious.

But a demon?

Was that possible?

She watched his chest move up and down in his unconscious state, and for the first time realized that his blood that stained his shoulder was a sinister black.

The first thing that Soul noticed when he came to was that his head _fucking hurt_. The aching was nothing close to dull; it was more like a sharp throbbing. Behind the darkness of his eyelids danced colorful spots, and it felt as if the world was spinning, but he forced himself to open his eyes.

The last thing he expected to see was that _stupid devil girl_.

Well, perhaps devil wasn't the right word; that would be an insult to the _actual_ devils out there.

A cursory glance told him that he was inside of the house he had temporarily made his base. She was sitting in front of him cross-legged, a novel resting open in her lap. A novel that looked vaguely– _had she clocked him with a goddamn book?_ A low growl that crossed between embarrassment and anger sprang unbidden from his throat, and the girl's eyes flickered up to meet his.

"Oh, good. You're awake." With that short opening she stood, dusting off her skirt, and looked down at him. "I just wanted to make sure you survived. Or weren't concussed. But that's your last warning; try anything funny again and I won't make sure you wake up."

Soul sputtered, sitting up while he searched for an answer. He opened his mouth to speak and winced at the echoing pain. He gingerly touched the top of his head; he swore he could feel a dent from where the novel had collided with his skull. "Anything funny?" he finally managed, falling back to lean against the wall. "Stupid woman, I wasn't going to _hurt _you."

The look that she shot him was nothing short of baffled. "You... weren't?"

"_No_, you idiot!" he snarled, eyes closing in hopes of warding off the pain. "I was just going to wipe your memory of you walking through here. _Goddamn that smarts_. I don't want anyone finding me here, and I don't need some stupid human getting their mind picked through later to give me away!" Soul cracked an eye open to look at her and tried his best to sound sincere. "Wasn't going to hurt you. I swear. That's not my kind of thing."

She hesitated before sitting back down, brushing out her skirt primly. "So, you're... actually a demon? And not evil?" Beneath the hesitation in her eyes shone a bright curiosity, and despite his best efforts Soul found himself willing to answer. It had been so long since he had actually _talked_ with someone. Maybe he could hold off on wiping her memories for a while longer. Maybe it was safe.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm a demon, although there are those who would claim otherwise. There are a lot of us out there. And we're not necessarily bad; we're just... wired differently? I dunno." The girl tilted her head, and Soul sighed. "There are bad seeds out there, sure, but mostly we keep to ourselves. Y'know, demon business."

"I'm quite sorry, but no, I don't know."

"Sassy, aren't you?"

She cracked a smile at him. "Sometimes."

Soul watched her watch him; she was strange, this girl. "What's your name?" The words sprang unbidden from his mouth before he could stop them.

Her hand, ensconced in a soft looking white glove, reached out to him. "I'm Maka Albarn. You can call me Maka, though."

There were a few beats of silence as he just stared at her extended hand. "Stupid, I'm not going to actually use it. It's just so I know who to avoid in the future." Still her hand hung between them. "What's wrong with your arm?"

Maka's smile wilted and turned into a slight scowl. She shook her hand lightly in the air, emphasizing its existence. "What, am I too lowly of a human for you to acknowledge?"

Soul narrowed his eyes at her. "I really have no idea what you're on about."

Her hand fell slightly, almost brushing the ground. "It's a handshake." He stared blankly back. "You don't know what a handshake is?"

"Nope."

Maka watched him curiously for a moment. Soul shrunk down against the wall, avoiding her eyes; somehow he felt as if he was being judged. The corners of Maka's mouth twitched a bit, fighting back a smile, before she bursted into giggles. "Here I was –ahahaha– scared out of my wits of you –heehee!– and it turns out you're a big softie who doesn't even know what a _handshake_ is!"

He could _feel_ the blush creeping up his face. "Shut up! You stupid humans do such dumb things, how am I supposed to keep up with them all?" Still, Maka laughed, doubled over and clutching her stomach.

Eventually her laughter died down. "Sorry, sorry," she apologized, still smiling widely. "A handshake is something that we do when we introduce ourselves. Like this," she said, and she scooted closer to Soul. Maka reached out with her right hand and picked up his; Soul noted that while her hands were small, her grip was strong. She held his hand and then shook it once, up and down. Then as soon as it had begun, it was over.

Soul looked down at his hand, going over the quick motion in his head. "Oh. Okay. I guess I'm Soul."

"Nice to meet you, Soul." Maka beamed and suppressed another giggle. "I've never heard that name before. I guess you aren't that much of a bigshot demon, are you?"

Soul scowled and bared his teeth at her a bit. "Excuse me?" She continued to smile at him. "I'm not someone who's concerned with status; I'm strong and I know it! I don't need fame for that."

"Yeah, yeah. Of course." She shifted again, this time to sit next to him, leaning against the wall. "So, what brings you to Death City?"

A nervous agitation tugged at him, but Soul couldn't stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth. "I'm running away, and I heard that something I want is here," he blurted, but then his jaw snapped shut. What was he _doing_, talking to a human girl like this? If she had made it past both the misdirection spell outside of the block and the illusion surrounding the house, what was to say she wasn't being tracked by Black*Star and Tsubaki, manipulated by their grip on her shadow? His teeth ground against each other and he glanced at her by his side. She was certainly strange if she wasn't possessed. "Aren't you afraid? Any normal person would've run away." Once again he had no control over the words; they simply _were_.

Maka turned her head to watch him. "I was, at first," she admitted, head cocking to the side. "Not now, though. I'm not really sure why. You seem... harmless." Soul sputtered, so Maka backtracked. "Although I'm sure you're terrifying and powerful!" she amended. "I didn't mean it that way. I guess I just believe you; you don't want to hurt me."

"Means a lot coming from a flat chested devil-girl who clocks people with books. I could almost cry, I'm so touched."

Maka pouted. "Hey, you can't tell me that you weren't suspicious. Asking about the occult, running up to me like that to wipe my memories... That screams _'hit me, it's self-defense!'"_

"Uh huh." The decision to let Maka stay was weighing heavily on Soul's mind. She looked innocent enough. Pigtails lent a childish look to her, but she carried herself like someone who didn't fear the world. She didn't fear _him_ at least.

Perhaps that was the most dangerous part of her.

His fists balled up by his side. "You need to go," he whispered. His voice sounded strained, but he made sure that it did not waver. "Get out of here. Go." Maka looked at him quizzically, and his teeth clenched together at her disobedience. "_Get out_," he snarled, standing up despite his aching head. Soul gestured to the door leading to the hall. "You can't stay here anymore."

Soul knew that he was being mean to her; she looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Her mouth hung slightly agape, her eyes were wide, and perhaps she was a bit hurt by his sudden change in demeanor but it was too risky to keep her here. She hesitated, fiddling with the hem of her skirt, and a low growl tore itself from his throat. "_Leave before I change my mind and wipe your memories_. I don't need a human here."

He could see her deflate. Her mouth opened, likely to protest, but it snapped shut again and she pushed off of the floor. "Alright. It was nice to meet you, Soul," she murmured, avoiding his eyes. "I would've liked to talk to you more, but if you don't want me around, I guess I'll leave you alone." She brushed past him, and for a brief moment he regretted sending her away.

But then she was gone, and things were back to normal; he was alone with his thoughts.

Soul slumped back against the wall. All of a sudden the room was so quiet. The weight of being alone was unexpectedly heavy. Still, having a human around was dangerous, and he had never needed company before now. It was okay. Things would work out. He settled against the floor again, closing his eyes to ward off the ache in his skull, and listened for the front door closing so that he could fortify the defenses around the house again.

The sound never came.

A shiver ran down his spine and Soul's eyes snapped open. Maka stood in the doorway watching him, but her eyes were blown wide, pupils dilated to the point that her green irises were barely visible. There was something wild and frightened that seemed to radiate off of her, and the shiver that had overcome Soul tangled together into a dense cold feeling that sunk deep into his bones.

Every movement as he stood up was deliberate, from the shifting of his arms to balancing as he pushed off the floor. Her eyes followed him, capturing every last detail of his motions.

"Can we... talk some more?" Maka's jaw moved stiffly, as if it struggled to form the words she spoke. Soul hesitated as she took a jerky step in his direction. "I'd like to hear more about you." He backed against the wall, noting the location of the window on his left.

"Leave, Maka. If you can leave, do it." The words were heavy on his tongue, and he loathed the fear behind them. If she couldn't leave...

Her body shuddered to a halt, and her eyes met his.

Before she could react, addled and dulled as her mind was, Soul had reached her and struck her square on the back of the neck. She crumpled to the ground, and with a low hiss a shadow dissipated from within her like smoke wafting through the air.

"You're damn cowards, you know that?" he snarled, lifting Maka off of the ground and slinging her over his shoulder. He brought his free hand up to his mouth, and with a sharp jerk Soul ran his index finger over his fangs, slicing a deep cut into the flesh. Black blood oozed from the wound and dripped onto the wooden floor. "You call me all the names you want, but you're the real despicable ones, using an outsider to try to get to me."

A booming and boisterous laugh rang through the house, and predictably Black*Star and Tsubaki's appearance in the doorway followed it. Black*Star cracked his knuckles, extending his arms outward, and laughed again. "No way, Patchy," he grinned. "I just wanted to have a little fun with your new friend. She walked right into us, didn't even have a chance to squeak before Tsubaki had her enchanted."

Tsubaki stepped forward and eyed Maka. "You really are a disgrace; you still have some sort of lingering attachment to humans, it would seem. If you left her behind, you likely could evade us for a few more days. In your present condition, what with the shadows infecting your arm, you can't afford the burden of another to look after." Maka stirred, and Soul's grip on her tightened; it would be incredibly inconvenient to lug her around, but having her be conscious but dazed was even worse. Tsubaki smiled slightly, and Soul could almost believe that she was pitying the young girl, but her gaze suddenly hardened. "Your would-be nobility will be your downfall, you petty thief."

"Thief?" The words were quiet, almost inaudible, but they were there. Maka still hung limp over his shoulder, but Soul realized that she had certainly regained consciousness. He hadn't hit her too hard for fear of leaving lasting damage, after all. "You're a thief?"

"Damn right he is!" shouted Black*Star, pushing ahead of his partner. "The bastard has our _ears_!"

"Your... ears?"

Slowly and deliberately, Soul set Maka down. Her legs wobbled slightly, but she managed to stay up. He took a step back, pressing up against the wall, and she turned her head to look between him and the new intruders. "What do they mean, you have their ears?"

Tsubaki broke the tense silence that hung between Soul and Maka. "We mean exactly what it sounds like," she said, and she slid the hood that shadowed her face off. She turned her head to aim its left side towards Maka.

Her ear was missing.

Black*Star mirrored his partner's actions, although he showed off the right side of his head. Similar to Tsubaki, his right ear was gone.

Maka wavered, as if she might fall over. "But. _He_ has them? Why? How?"

"You really don't know?" asked Tsubaki, and Maka shook her head. "I suppose that I'll tell you, then." She took a deep breath and began to speak. "As I'm sure you've figured out or been told by now, we're demons. It's not uncommon for us to get into brawls of sorts, although many of us are relatively peaceful. But demons are powerful, and fighting is not always without consequence; sometimes we are killed. Sometimes we are severely injured. And sometimes we lose a limb or two. Black*Star and I happened to lose our ears in a battle with an imp with fire magic. In a truly impish fashion, they hid our ears away while we were tending to our wounds, and by the time we found them, one of each were missing. The wounds weren't a big deal, as the fire magic that inflicted them in the first place cauterized them and we demons heal quickly to begin with, but losing a body part is infuriating, as I'm sure you can imagine. Years passed with us searching for our ears, until we heard the story of a young human scientist conducting experiments. His goal was to create a demon out of lost body parts, be they from dead or living demons.

There was a beat of silence, and Soul tensed up before Tsubaki continued. "He succeeded. The end result was that _abomination_ there. And now that we've found him, we intend to take our ears back by any means necessary. That includes using you as a bargaining chip."

Soul watched as something akin to realization crossed Maka's face, accompanied soon after by a healthy dose of fear.

"So what you were looking for in Death City, the instruction manual you mentioned...?"

"Yeah," said Soul, gritting his teeth as he saw Tsubaki and Black*Star shift into a battle-ready position. "It's on how to make _me. _But I'm _not_ giving back these ears; they're mine now."

"Man, you're so _predictable,"_ sighed Black*Star, and in an instant his scowl shifted into a twisted and demonic grin. "Guess we'll have to have some more fun with you." Shadows flared out of the ground, and Soul lunged for Maka. The moment that his hand grabbed her arm the world warped around them with a lurching swirl, and suddenly they were in a run-down house, roof missing.

"What the– How did we get here?"

"_Goddammit_," swore Soul, not even bothering to stay quiet to avoid detection; he had been unable to cover his magical trail and knew they would be tracked. "They were right, the wound they left me with last night really did dampen my magic. I couldn't even leave the goddamn neighborhood with an extra passenger."

Maka stiffened. "You're risking yourself for–"

"WOOHOO!" Black*Star's boisterous battlecry rang through the house, and Soul grimaced as he and Tsubaki crashed in from above.

"Soul, we have to run again!" shouted Maka, whirling to face him as darkness swirled around the approaching duo. "They're going to kill you!" When Soul did nothing but crouch, touching his hand to the floor, she keened in frustration. "_Soul, run! Please!_"

He just shook his head, focusing on the ground. The blood from his previously inflicted cut on his left hand was still flowing relatively freely, and with his right hand Soul took the blood, smeared onto his index finger, and traced it across the floor. "I'm finishing this here," he growled when done, and lifted his finger.

Maka stomped her foot. "Why would you say that? You said the wound on your arm was weakening you, you should ru–" Realization froze her body, and Soul could practically see the gears turning in her head. "You're doing this for my sake?"

Soul straightened up and stood in front of his handiwork. "They'll just chase me if I leave again, and I'm not leaving you in the line of fire. This isn't your fight, and you're here because you tried to do the right thing." He grinned, now facing Black*Star and Tsubaki, and his fangs gleamed in the sunlight flowing from the open roof. "Bring it on."

With a whooping yell Black*Star charged forward toward Soul, shadows surging from the corners where they fell from the sunlight, and Tsubaki raised her arms high, strands of darkness curling around her wrists until they shot in Maka's direction.

Simply shifting to the side, Soul revealed the text he had written in his blood and the spell that came with it.

_Frailty, thy name is shadow_.

While Black*Star continued to charge forward, the shadows that followed him and sprung from Tsubaki did not. They shuddered to a stop mid-air before twisting in on themselves and then tangling around their masters. Even Black*Star and Tsubaki's shadows rose from the ground to restrain them with dark strands, each resembling their demon of origin. They both cried out in surprise and frustration, and Soul spoke quietly in Maka's direction. "It's a good thing we landed here; if the roof weren't missing the shadows wouldn't be heavy or condensed enough for the spell to latch onto them all." Next, to his struggling assailants, he said, "I'll give you this last chance; surrender and I'll let you live."

Black*Star snarled at the shadows entangling him, "Get off me, damn you! I'm your master, your god!" He kicked at the rope-like tendrils, struggling wildly and yowling in anger, but Tsubaki hung limp and defeated, not bothering to waste her energy struggling. Still, they both suddenly stiffened, eyes widening. Soul turned to look behind him, just in time to be flung backwards by a dark form striking him across the chest.

Wincing, he braced himself against the ground and stood up. Before him loomed a large shadow, wavering and oscillating wildly, but its shape was distinctly human. Its limbs were long and thin, as was its body, but black wings, resembling those of a bat, spread to give it an ominous silhouette, and in one hand it grasped a broadsword. "_Woah,_" whispered Soul, still a bit breathless from the blow.

"You fool!" cried Tsubaki, now struggling wildly against her restraints. "You're going to get us all killed, your little human friend too! _You can't even control your own shadow_!"

Maka stumbled backwards, tripping over tendrils of darkness that wafted from the frightening form. "That's... your shadow?" she choked out, staring upwards as it turned its head to look at her. "It looks nothing like you, how is _that_ your shadow?!"

Black*Star roared in frustration again and bared his teeth. "Are you stupid or something? We're _demons_, our shadows are different! They reflect our true power!" Soul could have sworn he heard something akin to "Mine should be _much_ bigger," tacked on to the end. "He was made up of parts of powerful demons like _me_, of course he's gonna have huge potential power!"

"It, uh," began Soul, searching for words as he watched the shadow take a battle stance. "It looks kinda... mean."

As the words left his lips, Soul's shadow surged upward before slashing horizontally with its sword, slicing deeply across both Black*Star and Tsubaki's restrained bodies. They slumped limply forward as dark purple blood poured from the gaping wounds on their chests.

Soul swore as the shadow turned on Maka. He flung the other shadows, the ones that he could actually _control_, at it in hopes of distracting it, but still it loomed ominously over Maka, whose eyes went wide. "_Shit_." He focused his aura, his essence, to gather the magic he still had control over and dissolved the connections to the remaining shadows. The powers that they had contained and that he had used to manipulate them flowed back into him, and Soul's body shuddered at the sensation; his entire body tingled with hypersensitivity triggered by the active magic, and he had to fight to keep it contained lest it all dissipate and his one chance at winning slip past.

A constant stream of swears flew quietly past his lips as Soul tried to decide his next move. Time was running out. Maka, that _stupid_ human who didn't know what was good for her, was in danger thanks to his rampaging shadow. How was he supposed to know that his shadow would be out of control? It was _her_ fault for somehow getting past his barrier, for knocking him out, for _sticking around_ and talking with him as if he deserved it, but somehow Soul couldn't find it within himself to let her get killed. "God _damn_ it!" he shouted, teeth grinding together, and in that moment his shadow made its move, lunging and brandishing its sword.

Its blade slashed diagonally across Soul's chest, flaying him open from shoulder to hip.

Soul had felt pain before. His life had always been a cycle of fighting, and more often than not he left with a new wound that would scar over in time. Nothing compared to this. He choked on the blood that gathered in his throat, sputtering out a globule of black before falling to his knees in front of Maka.

He heard his name cried out behind him, but Soul couldn't focus on it. He had one chance, one opening to win this fight, and it was slipping away because he had to protect that _damned girl_. Body trembling, Soul looked upward to meet his shadow's gaze. It twitched sporadically and readied its blade again, and Soul spat, "Can't even kill me with one slice? I expected more from a fragment of myself."

The shadow lurched, and after a moment of looming upward it flung itself at Soul, sword arcing for his neck.

His right hand blocked it.

Every fiber of Soul's being was screaming with the strain put upon it. He could feel the throbbing in his chest where he had been cut, and it was excruciatingly painful; even diverting some of the excess magic that he had gathered into it could not staunch the bleeding, and a growing puddle of black spread beneath his knees. His hand, sparking with power as it dripped darkness, could barely hold back the sword with all of the fortification behind it, and his arm trembled.

One shot.

"You are part of _me_," he gasped out. "You _will_ obey me!"

With the little physical strength he had left to muster, Soul raised his left hand and extended it, palm facing the shadow.

Words glared at the dark form, and it screeched.

_Frailty, thy name is Soul._

The shadow shook, and the vibrations through its ethereal form dug the blade deeper into Soul's palm. Still, he held fast: this was it. This was the one chance he had to win. He wasn't going out this way, not to those shadow-master goons or to himself. He would win. He would _survive_.

It was all he knew how to do, after all.

The shadow hunched over, filling the air with ghostly wailing. Its form, once solid and dense, seemed to waver as it fought the spell. Still, it was in vain; the power from Soul's blood had spoken, and it could not fight. It faded, becoming a being of smoke-like vapors, before it gathered itself in Soul's palm and disappeared with a hiss.

"My shadow... is part of me, after all," Soul murmured, watching it dissipate. "Even if it takes a spell to control..."

He slumped forward into a puddle of his own blood, and the world faded to black.

* * *

><p>When Soul came to, the first thing he noticed was the absolute absence of sensation in his torso. Considering that the <em>last<em> time he had been unconscious he had ended up with a killer headache he was mildly grateful for the lack of pain, but if he remembered correctly–

_Maka_.

His eyes flew open, and they immediately locked onto the blankness of a white ceiling. Well, white tinged with hues of pink and orange; the sun was setting. Soul turned his head to the source of the warm light, and he watched the sun hover lazily over the roofs of the neighboring houses. From this vantage point, he knew for certain he was in the house he had cleaned up and claimed as his own. For a moment, his eyes closed again and he let out a deep breath. That meant Maka must have brought him here; she was alive.

Unless–

Soul sat upright quickly and flung the sheets that draped over him off and away. Twinges of pain broke the numbness of his chest, and he peered down.

His heart sank, and for the first time in a hundred years he felt despair and regret bubbling within him.

The wound his shadow had inflicted upon him, the deep gash across his chest, was stitched closed with tendrils of darkness that squirmed against his flesh. Soul wanted to retch as he watched the shadows hold him together. They were alive. They were alive and Maka might not be and– Soul clapped his hands against the sides of his head, and then heaved a sigh of relief. "Still there," he mumbled, dragging his fingers across the shells of both of his ears.

Still, that brought up new questions all over again.

Soul swung his legs over the side of the bed, _his_ bed that _someone_ laid him in, and stood. Somehow his legs did not waver beneath him, which he took to be a sign that he had been unconscious for longer than simply the day he last remembered; he could feel physical strength within him as well as magical, and with the blood loss and energy consumption he had encountered it was unlikely that a few hours would restore him to this condition.

Only a few steps in to his would-be investigation of the premises, Soul froze; heavy footfalls were coming down the hall that led to this room, and they were moving quickly. He defensively brought a hand up to his mouth, ready to bite down on the flesh and draw blood to fuel his strongest spells. Thumb between his teeth, Soul watched the door.

Black*Star stepped into the doorway, neatly folded sheets in hand.

Soul bit down.

"Oh _hell_ no, you aren't pulling that shit right now."

Blood pooling between his teeth, Soul shuddered; the shadows in his chest pulled painfully, and his body froze. Against his will his hand was jerked from his mouth, small shadows pulling the flesh closed much like they did for his larger wound. His legs, no longer his own, walked him back to the bed. His arms, out of his control, pulled the sheets back up. His eyelids, having blinked at set intervals, slammed shut. "You bastard–," he began, snarling blindly, but Black*Star cut him short.

"Tsubakiiiii! Your patient is awake! And he's being an idiot and gnawing on his hand again!"

Soul fought against the invisible restraints on his body, _in_ his body, but they did not give. Still, his eyelids were released from their grip, and he swiveled his gaze to lock onto the door. Black*Star stood there still, arms crossed across his chest, and he eyed Soul warily. He leaned back to look into the hall, watching whoever approached.

Tsubaki poked her head into the room, beaming. "How are you feeling?" she asked, stepping in with gauze and a jar of ointment in hand. "I'm glad you've finally woken up! It's the day after the incident with your shadow, so you've been out for about a day and a half. There was certainly a lot of blood loss from your chest, but it's such a relief to see that you've recovered nicely!"

Black*Star's grip on Soul's movements weakened and then faded, and Soul scooted across the bed and closer to the wall. "What the hell's wrong with you?" he asked, eyes darting between his two _obviously insane_ enemies. "Why are you here? Why are you _alive_? The hell are my ears still doing on my head?" The words _where is that girl?_ almost slipped past his lips, but his teeth clenched shut. Instead, he ground out a low, "Tell me what's going on."

With a huff, Black*Star stepped forward. "I believe what you meant to say was 'thank you so much for saving my ass,' but I'll overlook it this once. I'm merciful, after all."

Soul snorted. "Merciful. Right. Where was that mercy when you stuck some human in the line of fire to try and make cutting off my ears easier?"

Tsubaki smiled in Soul's direction, interrupting the brewing argument. "I'd be happy to answer your questions, Soul," she said. "But first, can I check on your wound?" After a moment of hesitation Soul nodded, and Tsubaki carefully made her way toward him, making each movement deliberate and readable. With a gentle brush of her hand, the shadows that acted as stitches faded into the air. She then examined the gash, seemingly pleased at how quickly it was closing up, and replaced the stitches with a thin layer of ointment that faintly smelled of flowers and some tightly-wrapped gauze around his chest. Soul watched in silence as she treated him, but a conflicting mix of gratitude and fear festered in the pit of his stomach. Just as he opened his mouth to question her motives, Tsubaki spoke again.

"We've given up on our ears."

Black*Star muttered something unintelligible, but Tsubaki glared in his direction before returning her attention to Soul. "After that fight, we realized that it's futile; as long as you know our tactics, our patterns, and our powers, there's no way for us to defeat you. And, if we so much as slightly fell short of killing you and took them back, I'm sure you'd come after us. Am I wrong?"

"You're not wrong," Soul replied, watching Tsubaki give his hand the same treatment that his chest had received. "I'd come after you. And I'd probably have to kill you to take them back."

She nodded, setting his hand down on the bed. "I don't want to kill you, Soul," Tsubaki nearly whispered. "It's very unfortunate that we lost our ears all that time ago. I suppose we're lucky that Black*Star and I only lost one each. Still, as much as I would like to have mine back, to get _his_ back," she glanced at her companion, "I don't want to kill you. And I certainly don't want to die myself. Before, I thought I had it in me; I thought that I wanted to get our ears back badly enough to kill you. But I've changed my mind about you, and Black*Star is respecting my decision. I think you're noble, although a bit off and certainly an unorthodox demon." Her eyes, an expressive cobalt blue, met his. "If you'd allow it, I'd like to help you out. Of course, that means Black*Star will as well. You're searching for the recipe, correct? The accounts of how you were put together, and how _you_ as your own being came to exist?"

It took a full minute for Soul to answer. Black*Star shuffled in boredom in the doorway. They were offering not only a truce, but their companionship. Something about that sat strangely with Soul; there had never been anyone that could be considered an ally in his life. The prospect of having people who would aid his cause was very foreign and very intimidating. Still, if this was some sort of trap it was poorly set; there had been ample time to kill him or take his ears and flee, and yet, instead they stayed to treat his wounds. No question about it, they weren't pulling some sort of elaborate bluff unless they were total fools (and while Black*Star may have seemed like one, Tsubaki certainly was not).

The words were heavy on his tongue, laced with the bitter taste of trepidation and the unknown, but Soul forced them out. "Are you sure you want to get tangled up in this? There are others out there who won't hesitate to cut you down to get to me."

Tsubaki looked to her companion for confirmation. Black*Star scoffed in Soul's direction. "Are you kidding? Nobody could get through _me_." Tsubaki covered her mouth to muffle a giggle and Black*Star's cheeks pinked ever so slightly. "Just you watch, you stupid patchwork!" He put his hands on his hips and threw back his head, crowing out, "Nobody will take down the mighty Black*Star! Your search is safe with me on the front lines!"

While Black*Star continued to laugh boisterously over his own ego, Tsubaki turned back to Soul and smiled at him. "What he means to say is that he's happy to help. You see, Black*Star respects power. You defeated us, even unintentionally, and he's determined to get stronger. He decided that sticking with you, fighting the opponents that _you_ fight, is the best way to do that." She glanced warmly back at her partner before returning her gaze to Soul. "I promise you, he won't turn on you. While he may have a big head, he holds you in high esteem, although he would never say that to your face."

Respect? It took a moment for Soul to truly process that thought; these two demons, a pair that had hunted him with deadly intent up until the previous day, were offering themselves as companions. They _respected_ him. It was frightening in a way that also had coils of excitement building in his stomach. It was new. Someone was looking at him not as a reject, not as a worthless abomination, but as an equal, as a friend. For the first time–

_ Not for the first time_.

"What about Maka?" he blurted, leaning forward and supporting himself with his arms. "What happened to her? The girl that was with me. Is she okay?"

Recognition lit up Tsubaki's eyes as Black*Star rolled his, but before she could answer the sound of the front door slamming shut and feet pattering down the hallway cut her off. Her open mouth, ready to respond to Soul, closed, and she smiled. Before long, Maka peered through the doorway, looking past Black*Star and Tsubaki with eyes trained on the bed. When her gaze settled on Soul her eyes lit up and she grinned. "Good to see you're up! I was worried about you, you know."

_ Alive_.

Tension melted from Soul's muscles. Maka made her way to his bedside and leaned against the headboard. "You're not dead," he said, and internally he rejoiced at how smooth and unemotional his voice sounded; nobody needed to know of his fear that she had been killed because of him.

Still, despite Soul's flat tone, Maka smiled at him. "You can't get rid of me that easily," she quipped, and Soul snorted. "What, not happy to see me? You could be a _little_ grateful that I hauled your sorry butt back here after the fight."

His head snapped up. "_You_ carried me here?" he asked incredulously. Somehow it had seemed natural to assume that the shadow masters had moved him.

"Carried?" Maka laughed lightly. "I wish. It was more like dragging. Your pants probably have some nasty grass stains on them." When Soul sputtered indignantly, she laughed again. "Really, though, I'm glad you're okay. You lost a lot of blood." Her head quirked slightly to the side. "Well, I assume it was blood. The black stuff."

"Yeah," he grunted. "That's my blood. Demons heal quickly, though, so it's okay. Even though I got hit bad, I should be fine by tomorrow morning. Won't even leave a scar I bet."

"Actually..." Tsubaki's voice cut him off. "I'm not quite sure why, but my ointments are doing nothing to reduce the scarring. I'm not even quite sure _why_ it's scarring; we demons typically heal cleanly, as I'm sure you well know. Perhaps something went wrong in your spell, but I don't know if the marking will ever fully heal."

Black*Star whistled from across the room. "Damn, dude, that sucks, but at least it looks wicked, right?"

Soul looked down at his chest and traced the puckered skin lightly with his fingertips. There was still a slight rift where the flesh had not fully knitted itself back together, but as a whole the wound was predominantly healed. Still, Tsubaki was right: there was a prominent scar, unusual within itself, and it was showing no signs of fading as most demons' wounds did. Still, he would take it over the alternative. He flashed a toothy grin in Black*Star's direction. "Yeah. It's pretty badass, don't you think?" A glaring imperfection across his chest was another sign of survival; he had been flayed open, bled out all over the ground, and he still won and lived to fight again.

It was a small price to pay for absolving himself of guilt.

His gaze shifted from Black*Star to Maka, and he grinned again. "You owe me big time for this, you know. It's cause you were so stupidly brave to mess with a demon that I had to protect you."

She grinned back at him and stuck her tongue out. "I didn't ask you for your help!" she quipped. "But you 'had' to protect me? Does that mean you want to be my friend?" Her smile was audible within her voice with the way it rang clearly, and Soul couldn't help but laugh.

"No way," he chuckled, but he was careful to restrain any actual disdain from his voice. "Not in the slightest. Violent dork."

"That's _Miss_ Violent Dork to you, you sorry excuse for a demon!" she shot back, but a giggle broke through her attempt at a scolding voice.

She was insane. Absolutely insane, with no sense of self-preservation.

It was kinda cool.

Soul reached for her hand and gave it a slight squeeze. The heat of her skin was beautiful and felt like something akin to hope, and when she squeezed his hand back something warm bloomed in his chest that numbed the slight ache where his scar laid. He met her gaze, watched her jade eyes twinkle happily. Human or not, crazy and suicidal and violent or not, she looked at him with no contempt or hatred. She looked at him like he wasn't trash, like he deserved the answers he sought, like there was some greater purpose in his life. Different than the humans and demons alike that Soul had encountered, Maka seemed genuine and kind.

He didn't want to let her go. For the first time, he felt like he belonged.

A slight tug on her hand and he had pulled her down next to him, gathering her into his arms. Her body shook with gentle laughter even as Black*Star whooped and Tsubaki quickly ushered him out of the room.

"So you _were_ happy to see me, huh?"

He grinned against her hair and pulled her closer again. "Shut up."


	2. Chapter 2

Maka pulled her fleece coat tighter around her torso and hunched forward as she walked. Topsoil and blades of grass crunched underfoot when her boots pressed into the frost that thinly coated the ground. For a town bordering a Nevada desert, Death City got cold in the winter; snow was not common, but frost and ice seemed to build up out of nowhere during the desert winters.

Maka groaned and looked to the cloudy gray sky. "_Stupid_ Papa," she grumbled, breath puffing out in a thin white mist. "I'm not a baby, I can decide to go out on my own on weekends if I _want_ to. There's a limit to how much coddling is healthy." The toe of one of her boots kicked the frosted dirt, sending a clod flying. Her pace slowed as she entered an empty neighborhood, one that she had begun to frequent.

It had been almost a month since Maka had run into Soul, the strange demon-boy who had captured her interest. Since the incident with Black*Star and Tsubaki, the shadow pair had mellowed out into an interesting set of friends and Maka had grown to enjoy their company along with that of Soul himself. Black*Star was obnoxious and loud, but as time went by he had begrudgingly become more and more interested in human life; video games, sports, and television in particular enchanted him, and Maka found it oddly endearing. Tsubaki had taken to housekeeping and caretaking, which Maka suspected was not a new development. Tsubaki had also taken it upon herself to help Soul find the "recipe," which he suspected was currentlyin Death City. Many afternoons after class, when visiting the house, Maka would find the pair poring over books written in symbols she could not make heads or tails of. It was always surprising, seeing Soul so focused on a book, as he had made it clear time and time again that Maka's bibliophilic habits earned her the title of "nerd queen." Still, the recipe was obviously important to him, so she let his hypocrisy slide.

Soul hadn't really changed since she met him, unlike the shadow masters. Aside from the abrupt hug he had given her when he woke up, he was careful to keep his distance from her. He joked and sneered and teased, but when all was said and done, nothing truly touched him or made him honestly enjoy himself.

Maka wanted to see him smile for real.

The air vibrated around her as she stepped past the now-familiar edge of the magical barrier within the neighborhood. This particular spell had two layers: the first was misdirection, to turn around any unwanted human or unprepared demon who entered the area and coerce them to take another route, and the second was the illusion that Maka had unwittingly discovered during her first encounter with Soul. Both spells were originally of Soul's construction, but now Tsubaki maintained them; she had offered to rebuild both barriers, as utility spells were her strong points magically, and Soul quickly took her up on it, groaning about how tough it was to use –much less keep up– magic that wasn't fueled by his blood.

Still, Maka had been relatively unfazed by Soul's barrier aside from her reasonable confusion at the world changing around her. She supposed that it was a good idea that Tsubaki take over; clearly Soul needed some brushing up on his other spells if she had wandered through the misdirection without being fazed. The "run down" house was now in sight, and she strode quickly towards the spot where she knew the images would begin to twist–

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Just as Maka stepped over the second spell's threshold, in front of her materialized a new figure, a boy with wild blue eyes and slick black hair. She barely caught a squeak of surprise before it slipped past her lips, but while the sound had been quenched her hands had flown to cover her mouth in surprise. The instinct to step backwards was strong, but the knowledge that this boy would fade out of her sight if she did rooted Maka's feet to the ground. Instead she ran her options through her mind. This boy was likely a demon if he had made it into the barrier and was surprised to see her. That cut out simply running as a possibility; he almost certainly could stop her with little effort. She could yell for Soul, Tsubaki, or Black*Star, but a demon poking around inside of the barrier was a huge red flag that they were looking for Soul, likely to reclaim a body part. Drawing attention to Soul's presence was, in that case, a very bad idea unless her life was in danger.

That left one other option that Maka could quickly come up with. She forced her eyes open wide and was grateful for the instinct that had shot her hands to her mouth; it played in well with her plan. One hand lowered to cover her heart. "Oh, I didn't see you there! I never see anyone when I come through here, what a surprise!"

The boy's eyebrows came together sharply, and he gnawed a bit on his upper lip. "How did you get in here? Humans can't come through without getting turned around." With a quick scan he took in Maka's appearance. "You're definitely human. So, what are you doing here? I won't let anyone else get him before I do!"

Maka tilted her head to the side and put on her best doe eyes. "I'm not quite sure what you mean...," she said, making sure to look as confused as possible. "I come through here almost every day; it's on my path to school, and there's a grocery store just past here that has the _best_ sales. You have to know it if you're from this area, right? I know nobody really comes through here, but it's much quicker for me this way and I actually like the quiet. I must've spaced out- I'm really sorry for almost bumping into you! It's just the first time I've run into someone here, so I wasn't paying attention!" She punctuated her speech with pressing her palms together in front of her and bowing her head, hoping that this demon understood it as a very human, very non-threatening sign of apology.

He watched her carefully, but the defensive scowl that had been plastered on his face had begun to melt away, leaving just a frown. "Well, don't come this way anymore, stupid," he snapped. "There's an important investigation going on and I can't let your carelessness tip off my target."

Alarm bells went off in Maka's head; so this guy _was_ looking for Soul! She knew the proper course of action was to turn around, to count her blessings that this demon wasn't out for her blood, and to hope Tsubaki had noticed him enter the barriers, but that felt like giving up. This guy was believing her so far when she said that she knew nothing of the barriers; there was a little more room to push it, a little more space where she could make herself useful, right?

The words tumbled out before she could think it through any longer. "Investigation? Target?" she asked, donning her confused clueless human expression once again. "What happened? Did someone get murdered or something?"

With a snort, the demon wrinkled his nose and looked down on Maka. "Murder? As if. My master-ah, I mean my boss-isn't interested in mundane things like that. He only has _me_ go after the highest quality information, the most important new events." Once again his eyes roamed up and down Maka, and he harrumphed. "And yet, here I am wasting my _precious_ time on you. Get lost, pipsqueak, my mas– boss and I have no interest in someone like you."

That was it. That had to be the end of this questioning; aggravating a demon whose specialties she didn't know was something that even Maka wasn't brave enough to do. But the information she had just obtained, little as it was, was important; if information about his whereabouts was being collected, then Soul _needed_ to know.

She smiled and took half a step backward, distancing herself from the boyish creature without sliding behind the spell's wall and distorting her field of vision. "Well, thank you for at least letting me know that something's going on here. I don't want to get caught up in anything dangerous, so I'll start taking the long way around until whatever it is settles down. Good luck with your investigation!"

But instead of turning around, Maka tried to step around the demon, to continue on her previous path towards Soul's home.

Before she could blink, he had grabbed onto her right arm, nails that came to slight points digging into her flesh but not drawing blood. "Oh?" he breathed, navy eyes glinting with new suspicion and malice. "But it's _very_ dangerous to go that way. Why don't you just turn around and let those who know what they're doing take care of the _problem_?"

Caught. Shards of ice pumped through Maka's veins. Stupid, _stupid_. Why did she have to press her luck? If she had turned around, if she had left without arousing more suspicion–

Maka jerked her arm out of the demon's grasp, gasping at the pain from his nails jerking across her skin but not hesitating. Her freed hand shot into the satchel that hung against her left hip, and she flung what she grabbed into his eyes.

The demon keened, grabbing at his face and biting down hard on his upper lip. A small sizzling sound popped from his flesh where the fistful of salt had come into contact with it, but Maka did not pause to ponder the fact that demons apparently _weren't _fans of the substance– she had been certain that Black*Star was joking, but the results in front of her were pretty damning. Still, she pushed off from where she stood and began to sprint, aiming for the shortest path to the house's front door. The cold air burned her lungs as she gulped it in, trying to stay calm. Her bangs whipped into her eyes along with the wind, but she blinked back the tears and pain, instead gathering a large breath, preparing to cry out.

The air crackled around Maka, and just before she forced out her shout she was struck squarely in the stomach and flung back onto the ground. The air was knocked fully out of her lungs, tearing out of her throat with a wheeze, and she struggled to breathe. When she looked up, towering over her was the demon, left arm extended with an elaborate black wing blossoming from his wrist. Feathers that had knocked Maka backwards with their force fluttered harmlessly to the ground around her, a black snow of ill intent.

His head tilted slightly to the side, and he snarled down at Maka, "I knew there was something odd about a _human_ making their way here; you _do _know that abomination. Well, as much as I loathe the thought, Master Noah may have some use for you." His eyes narrowed and he lightly stomped the ground, frost crunching beneath his boot. "But a human, of all things! He shouldn't have to sully himself with your presence!"

Still, complaints about Maka's lack of being a demon aside, he spread his arms wide, and the elaborate design on the front of his vest split open horizontally. It took Maka a moment to realize what was happening; the quickly widening hole in his vest –no, his _stomach_– was intended to hold _her_.

"_Soul!_" she cried, almost choking on fear before her friend's name could be uttered. "_Help me!_"

The gaping maw that had appeared in the strange demon's torso enveloped her and a faint shower of orange sparks burst forth. When the sparks faded, Maka tried to stretch out, to squirm her way out of the demon's grasp, but her limbs were met with a springy but firm resistance, as if she were encased in an invisible bubble.

Terror, pounding through her veins with each trembling pump of her heart, flooded Maka and sealed her throat closed. Any shouts or screams that would have followed her plea for help died prematurely, strangled by fear. Human. She was a human who had thrown herself into the affairs of demons and expected to not get burned. This was her punishment for the strange curiosity that drew her to Soul like a moth to a flame; she had been bound to flit too close to the fire and set herself ablaze with danger.

Still, that knowledge, the sinking realization that this situation was a problem of her own making, was painful and terrifying and _real_. And in a strange calmness that lay still just beneath her fear, Maka decided that _no_, Soul did not have to save her. Why would he, after all? Yes, he had saved her when Black*Star and Tsubaki attacked, and yes, he hadn't sent her away when she continued to stop by. Still, ever since the attack on the house a week and a half ago , the first for which Maka had been present, Soul had been more curt around her. She hadn't been in the way, not by a long shot; Maka had done nothing but stay in a far corner while the demon demanded her eye back and then attacked. Nonetheless, Soul had almost immediately begun to push her away, as if her presence was nothing but a burden.

No, he had no obligation to come save her. This situation was of her own making.

But as the demon began to teleport and the world warped around Maka, further distorting the slightly curved view from within the bubble, she could barely make out a figure topped with a shock of white hair barreling out of the house.

"_Maka!_"

Even though her vision was fading as space was twisted and torn apart, the sound of his voice reached her, and the concern and fear that wove through it rekindled the terror that she had momentarily pushed aside. The burning fear coupled with a fresh burst of adrenaline cleared her throat of the knot that held it closed, and she screamed once more before the world faded to black.

"_Soul!_"

"Maka!" Soul stumbled over his own feet as he tried to reach the demon that held her, but with a sneer and a sickly sucking noise he was gone. "Shit, what do I– _Tsubaki, get out here!_" A fresh flow of adrenaline heightened Soul's thoughts and reactions, but he knew he didn't have enough time to draw blood and write out his spell; the one chance he had hinged on his much weaker channeled spells. Still, with Maka's cry for help echoing in his mind, he had no choice. The swirl that the demon had disappeared through was fading, and with it went the traces of magic that could lead to their destination. Teeth grinding harshly together, Soul thrust his arms outward and bowed his head, eyes screwed shut as he reached for the magic in his soul.

_ Please_.

Small tendrils of black and red wrapped around his arms like ethereal snakes before lunging forth to their target location.

And, within the bubble of magic that Soul channeled, time began to slow.

The effect on his body was instantaneous, and Soul bit back a snarl that fought to tear itself from deep within. Daring to peek through his tightly closed eyelids, Soul watched his fingernails sharpen themselves to points and become dyed a light-consuming black. He really was pushing it, the madness in his blood was going to get the best of him if he kept up such a complex spell for much longer; either his body or his resolve would give out first if he didn't– _where the fuck was Tsubaki?_

"Soul? What are you– _Soul!_" Footsteps and a concerned voice heralded Tsubaki's arrival, and it took all of his willpower not to snap at her for taking her precious time.

"_Track him_," he managed to grit past his teeth. "I'm holding it as best I can but I can't take much more–!" Soul's eyes flew open and he saw red. Too close. His limit was far too close. "Tsubaki, you have to _now!_"

Only a beat of silence passed between them before Tsubaki's confused gaze was steeled and her eyes narrowed in focus. A pale golden glow surrounded her as she focused, but Soul couldn't keep watching her. His eyes screwed shut and he forced ragged breaths through clenched teeth until Tsubaki spoke.

"Soul, you can drop the spell."

Every bit of his being had been focused on maintaining the bubble of warped time, and it took a moment for the absolute command he had given himself of _do not let it go_ to release. Once the magic was no longer concentrated so strongly within him, Soul's legs gave out and he slumped against the ground, breathing in the chill of the frosty grass and dirt. Light crunching on the icy ground signaled Tsubaki's approach, and he opened his eyes to look at her.

Red still rimmed his vision and keeping his voice level was a chore. "Where did he take her?" he rasped, forcing the air from his lungs. "You got it, right?" The silence that hung heavy and unbroken between them left him colder than the frost that pressed against his cheek. "Tsubaki. _Where are they?"_

He knew it was coming –it was painfully obvious–, but the reply of "I don't know," almost sent Soul into a fit of madness-induced rage. His muscles, still exhausted and limp from the damage the magic had dealt to them, spasmed, and his fingers dug themselves into the ground. His nails, which had been slowly reverting to their typical shape, lengthened once again, spearing blades of grass. But Soul had exerted himself far too much; the instincts that pushed him to snarl, to fight, to defy what had come to pass could not overcome the exhaustion that had sunk deep into his bones. The rage passed. The air was cold in his lungs, and Soul focused on that while the thundering of his heart calmed.

When Tsubaki's fingers gently ran through his hair, Soul let his eyes flutter closed. He took in her whispered apologies, listened to the regret in her voice, and let the knowledge that she _tried_ sink in. It wasn't as if Tsubaki had just let the trail dissipate. She had tried; he had felt her spell alongside him, something that wouldn't have happened if it wasn't backed up by all of her power. No, the fault was with his spell. Time manipulation was particularly tricky, moreso for someone whose skills in channeled magic was poor. He had probably been unable to slow the area enough to give Tsubaki time.

He just wasn't ever strong enough, even when he had someone to protect.

It hurt.

But she was counting on him. And that was enough to make him move forward.

"Tsubaki, don't worry about it," grunted Soul as he pushed himself up off of the ground. His muscles screamed in protest, threatening to let Soul fall flat on his face once again, but by sheer power of will he kept his arms steady. "We're going to find Maka. I got a decent look at the bastard that took her, and we'll hunt the sleazeball down." From sitting to standing, Soul's movements did not waver, even as Tsubaki watched him with concerned eyes.

"I got the general area," she whispered, her voice almost being carried away on the cold wind. "I don't have a pinpointed target location, but I have an idea of where they went within about half a mile radius. That area isn't too far off, so if we can find him in my books, learn what sorts of areas he spends time in–"

"We'll take him out. And then we'll get her back." The words were gritted out between clenched teeth. Rage at the sneaky demon festered just beneath Soul's barely-holding composure, but he squelched it, digging his nails into his palms. "I'm sorry I couldn't hold the spell well enough. But you did well, Tsubaki. Thank you. Now we're going to get Maka back."

* * *

><p>With a pulling sensation and a powerful urge to vomit, Maka found herself deposited roughly against the ground. Biting her tongue to suppress the nausea threatening to force bile up her throat, she pushed her torso off of the ground and looked around.<p>

The first thing she saw was the scowling demon, and Maka instinctively scooted away from him, legs dragging across the rough carpet beneath her. He stepped closer to her, gaping maw in his stomach closing and wings on his wrist disappearing in a flurry of feathers, and Maka quickly found herself backed against the wall, stone blocks picking at her jacket. The slight moment of relief that she had felt at being freed from the demon's grasp quickly dissolved into a heavy ball of tension that pulled against her gut. His eyes were unflinching as he leered down at her, and with a lurch he planted each palm against the walls above Maka. A faint black aura flickered around him, barely visible in the dim room, and suddenly Maka felt something searing hot against her wrists.

Orange sparks, bursting forth like flames from her skin, filled the room briefly with light before fading. With a frustrated "tch!" the demon scowled harder, and his aura surged, darkness undulating around him.

Maka cried out at the sensation that rippled through her. Sparks once again pushed away the darkness, and overwhelming heat seemed to burn beneath her skin. But soon the shower of orange faded and her arms were lurched upward, no longer burning but instead shackled to the wall with wavering black energy.

Seemingly satisfied but no less sour, the demon harrumphed and turned on his heel, bell-bottomed pants flaring out as he stomped out of the room.

When the door slammed shut, leaving the room in a heavy silence, Maka took the chance to take a deep breath before taking in her surroundings. The wall she was shackled to was rough stone, but the carpet was ornate, and the door from which the demon left was heavy and wooden. Wherever she was, it was an old but elegant building; the air was musty, but the room itself had a haunting sort of beauty to it.

Maka tested the shackles against her wrists. No longer did they make heat surge through her skin, nor did the pressure send forth flurries of sparks. Still, they held firm. She was unable to move her arms away from the walls and was securely trapped. There was no escape for Maka, at least not on her own.

A good half hour passed with little event other than Maka's shoulder cramping painfully, but suddenly the door swung open. The space beyond was brighter than Maka's windowless room, making it hard to discern the features of whoever was coming in, but their silhouette was different than the demon from earlier. The door slowly swung closed, settling with an echoing thump, and Maka's eyes readjusted to the change in brightness.

The man –no, he radiated something more powerful than a normal person–, the demon stepped forward. He was tanned, with a build that was lean but not lanky, and the definition of his muscle was visible beneath the white wifebeater he wore. A black jacket hung loosely off of his shoulders, and a plaid cap cast a deep shadow on his face in the dim light, making gleaming dots the only part of his eyes that were visible.

This had to be the other demon's "master" that he so revered.

Maka gathered up her courage and tried to put on a brave front, sitting up as straight as she could and glaring at the demon. "What do you want with me? Who are you?" she demanded, hoping that her false confidence would take the demon off guard and net her some information. "There's nothing that I can do for you, why would you have your stupid lackey take me?"

He smirked, looking Maka up and down with a critical eye before speaking. "Don't flatter yourself," he chuckled. "If it weren't for Soul's involvement with you, I wouldn't stoop to the level of taking a _human_ for information. Filthy little beings, so oblivious to the world around them." He paused for a moment, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "But as pathetic as you are, Soul has taken an interest in you. Tell me your name."

Maka hesitated. It had been fairly obvious before, but this confirmed that the demon from earlier had been after Soul. And here she had gone, bungling everything and getting _caught_, making a mess out of whatever she could. She wanted to groan, to hang her head, to curse her weak humanity in a world of monsters and magic. But that wouldn't keep her alive or get her away.

Soul would come for her. Hard to believe as it was, some instinct told her that he was searching for a way. The feeling flitted around within her chest, like an anxious bird looking for a way out, panicking but determined, and she chose to imagine that those feelings were Soul trying to find her.

She just had to stall for time.

"My name is Maka Albarn," she said, and she hoped that her voice did not waver. "Who are _you_?"

The demon quirked an eyebrow and looked down at Maka, a mix of curiosity and contempt blending strangely in his expression. "You're quite entitled for a human, Maka Albarn," he mused. "But I suppose that could be why Soul seems to have taken such an interest in you, enough to apply that pesky spell at least; Gopher did say that you were protected by a charm, weak as it is. But that is not the point." He loomed a bit closer, eyes dark and menacing. "I am Noah. I trade in information... although I amass it for myself as much as my clients."

Maka's stomach clenched uncomfortably, knotting itself into a ball of nerves. The fact that this demon, Noah, had taken an interest in Soul likely meant that someone was looking for his location. A personal curiosity only made it more dangerous. But past that, Noah's words were strange and unsettling. Before she could stop herself, censor the words, she blurted out, "What spell?"

For a brief moment, Noah looked baffled, but quickly a glint of understanding sparked in his eyes and his lips twisted into a toothy grin. "Oh?" he questioned, excitement barely contained. "So you _don't_ know? Fascinating. Absolutely interesting. He must really covet you in that case; no risk of scaring you off if you don't know that he's having to cast charms on you to protect you! Yes, girl, it seems that your friend has gone behind your back and cast a magic-dampening barrier on you. Gopher says that it activated both while bringing you here and when he sealed you, but it's nothing that can't simply be brute-forced past."

The knot in Maka's stomach sharply sank, and her throat clenched shut. A spell to reduce magic affecting her seemed innocent enough, but Soul had cast one on her without her permission? It was certainly meant to protect her from the threats that came with associating with demons, but the act itself sat poorly with her. If Soul was willing to do this without even consulting her, what _else_ would he do?

She could not let that get to her yet, though. Maka shoved the doubt, the budding distrust, back down and steeled her emotions. This was not the time to let those feelings consume her.

"So, why actually take me?" she ground out through her teeth. Her frustrations would have to be redirected for now. "Do you really think that kidnapping me will make a difference?"

It was as if the warmth of the room, little as it was, was sucked into a void. In an instant, all of the amusement and mirth from Maka's predicament behind Noah's eyes vanished. "Don't flatter yourself," he spat, and the contempt in his voice felt like ice in Maka's veins. "You are nothing of interest to me, as fascinating as a gnat. Humans are no better than vermin, and your presence here makes me want to gag. You are not important. What I want is _Soul_." Despite the fury, the darkness, the rage that boiled in Noah's voice, Maka could hear the truth in his sincere hatred. "If you are a weakness, something that can be exploited by my clients, then that's all well and good. But your pathetic existence is _nothing_ to me."

Maka could do nothing but choke out, "Understood."

The way Noah looked at her was unnerving and frightening. Completely different from how he was excited at learning of the spell on Maka –how _could _Soul do that to her?–, now Noah exhuded contempt. It was clear that he did not lie; the implications of the spell –which were what, exactly?– interested him infinitely more than she did. Any misstep, any toe out of line, could prove fatal. So Maka fell quiet, biting her tongue against curiosity about what information Noah was after, what sorts of demons were in Death City inquiring about Soul, _how Soul could have done such a thing to her_.

Noah opened his mouth once again, likely to patronize Maka's frail humanity further, but it quickly snapped shut and his eyebrows drew together. He tilted his head, one ear aimed at the door, and after a moment he grinned, teeth bared. "Lovely," he crowed, looking down upon Maka once again. "It seems that you _are_ of value to Soul! _Very _good to know! He has come to rescue his damsel in distress. Such _lovely _information." Maka's eyes snapped up to meet Noah's gaze. "He should be here any minute, so I'll just leave handling him to Gopher and get this information to my–"

The door, ripped from its hinges, slammed to the ground. The heavy carpet did little to muffle the crash, and Noah whirled around, words and smile both dying on his lips. In the doorway stood Soul, hand extended to where the door once hung. "Get away from her," he growled, voice more menacing and laced with hatred than Maka had ever heard it. "Maybe then I might let you live."

"Oh?" Noah shot a glance at Tsubaki, who had silently come to stand at Soul's side. "I assure you, I have no interest in your pet human." Soul snarled, baring his teeth at the comment. "Pray tell, though, where is Gopher? He was supposed to hold you off, yet here you are." While he spoke, Noah slowly shuffled toward a more open area of the room, putting a solid table between himself and Soul.

A whooping shout followed by a loud crash came just as Noah finished his inquiry. Soul grinned slowly, sharp teeth glistening ominously in the hallway's light. "He's in one piece for now," he said. "He's just a little _preoccupied_ at the moment." He looked to Tsubaki and nodded, then took a step towards Noah. Tsubaki hurried to Maka's side, looking her arm over quickly before focusing her magic on the shackles.

"Now," began Soul, taking another step, "why would a self-important bastard like you have any interest in my friend here?" Something dangerous simmered just beneath the surface of his voice, and it made Maka shiver. It felt like rage and malice, tinged slightly with an undertone of relief. When Soul's eyes met hers, just for a brief moment when he glanced her way, there was a heat burning in them that she had never seen before and could not name. As quickly as their gazes had met, though, he had looked away again, facing Noah with shoulders squared. "Well?"

Noah's eyes scanned the room, but he maintained aloof composure. "I have nothing to gain from your friend," he stated, lifting his hands in a display of innocence. "You can have her back... if you let me leave peacefully."

Soul narrowed his eyes, considering the proposal, but Maka cried out. "Don't let him, Soul!" Soul turned to look at her, and Noah bared his teeth and glared, but Maka continued. "He took me to get information about you, Soul, and if he leaves he'll be sending more demons after you! He wanted to know if I could be used as a weakness against you!"

The way that Soul's entire body tensed up made Maka's blood run cold. It had been quite some time since they had met, and while she had seen him fight a few times, it had always been relatively laid back; he had never gotten truly upset. She had come to see him as a strange boy with unfortunate circumstances around him, but...

He really was a demon, wasn't he?

The next few minutes –or was it longer?– were a flurry of movements and shouts. Soul had used his teeth to slice down both of his forearms, and the black blood that poured forth hardened itself into wicked curved blades. He lunged and slashed at Noah, who flung spells from a tome he had snatched off of the table in return. The two danced, a terrifying waltz whose missteps led to both participants taking dangerous blows. If Noah's arm was gashed by Soul's blades, he would retaliate with summoning a few imps to preoccupy Soul while he steeled himself once again. Soul would take damage from the counterattacks, and then they would clash again, a bit weaker but none the less vicious.

When Gopher ran in and almost tripped over the door, Black*Star in close pursuit, Tsubaki apologized to Maka and left her still shackled, going to assist her partner.

As the battle progressed, Soul's attacks became more and more unhinged, less controlled, but the force behind them seemed to increase accordingly. Worry twisted Maka's stomach, though, as she watched his movements change, and along with them changed his appearance. He was still _Soul_, it was nothing that drastic, but he certainly looked more demonic. His fingernails, usually trimmed short like most humans', were dyed the same black as his blood and curved into ripping claws. His teeth had always been more beastial than human, but they seemed even sharper and more vicious as he snarled during his onslaught. And tendrils of red and black laced themselves across his skin, reaching farther the more he pushed his limits.

Maka could do nothing but watch as her friends fought for her freedom.

Tsubaki and Black*Star tried to keep Gopher's haphazard attacks aimed away from Maka by positioning themselves accordingly, but when the demon saw his master take a particularly nasty blow from Soul, he keened loudly and unleashed a flurry of black feathers in every direction. Maka couldn't help but gasp in pain as some grazed her sides, her neck, her cheek; none hit her square-on, and for that she was grateful, but it was like being sliced by little serrated blades. Soul's head whipped around at the sound that she let out, and it was like something snapped in him.

No longer did Noah's spells deter him from closing the gap between them. Soul took a blast to his chest, grimacing as the magic seared his flesh before dissipating, but still he lunged forward, bringing both arms together to slash his blades like a guillotine. It was only by a hair's breadth that Noah's neck escaped the blades when he threw himself backward.

Gopher tried to change his focus, to go aid his master, stomach tearing open wide as a ball of energy gathered inside of it, but Tsubaki quickly wrangled him down with shadowy tendrils before Black*Star landed a punch to Gopher's face. Gopher squawked in pain, hands flying up to his bleeding face, and Tsubaki restrained him further. The opening in his attacks that she had been given was more than enough for her to bind his wings so that they could not be used as attacks, and she rooted him to a wall.

Noah was not faring so well either.

The onslaught from Soul had only gotten stronger, and even when Noah was able to land retaliating strikes between attempts at dodging, Soul did not relent. His lack of exhaustion was a stark contrast to Noah, whose once calculated movements were becoming haphazard and slow. Blow after blow, each kick or slash or punch that landed was taking its toll, and the creatures that Noah could summon had seemingly run dry, or he simply did not have the power left to keep bringing them forth.

And then one hooked punch caught Noah along his jaw. And then Soul's knee thudded into Noah's stomach.

And then a blade pierced Noah through his torso, and he coughed up purple blood.

Gopher screeched, and his panic was enough to break him from Tsubaki's shadows' grasp. He pushed both shadow masters away with a wall of feathers, and he forcefully pried Soul off of Noah, paying no heed to the wicked blades that barely missed him. "Master Noah!"

Maka watched as Soul regained his footing after being shoved back, and she saw the way his eyes narrowed and fists clenched. Whatever had overcome him, demonic instincts or otherwise, this bloodthirsty Soul was not himself, and he was clearly not finished with his battered and bleeding opponent. Soul bared his teeth once again and lunged forward, arms pulled back with blades positioned for two killing blows–

"Dude, you need to _get a hold of yourself_!" In a blur of black and blue, Black*Star was on top of Soul, arms locked around Soul's to keep him from slashing down into Gopher and Noah. "They are _beaten! _You've _won_ already!" Soul struggled, snarling and trying to lash out at his friend, but Black*Star kept his grip tight. "Soul, buddy, if you don't snap out of it, you're gonna do something in front of Maka that you _told _me you really didn't want to have to do!"

And just like that, Soul froze, and then a deep shudder wracked his body. It looked to Maka like he was gasping for air, eyes wide and mouth agape, but his chest heaved with shaky breaths. The markings that had spread across his body began to vanish, fading and then slithering back as they receded, and his claws shifted back into regular nails. And then, the last of the remnants of his battle, the curved blades on his arms wavered before falling to the ground with a sickening squelch, blood once again. Black*Star loosened his grip on Soul experimentally, ready to grab him back if he made too sudden of a movement, but Soul just slumped forward, eyes fluttering closed.

Sparing an apologetic glance at Maka, Tsubaki rushed to Soul's side while Black*Star restrained Gopher and Noah with the abundant shadows in the dark room. Tsubaki laid Soul out flat and pressed her hands against his chest, a faint purple glow surrounding where she touched. Soul's body convulsed once, eyes snapping open, but then he exhaled deeply and lifted one arm experimentally. He examined the already puckering skin where the blade of blood had once protruded, then pushed himself up and looked to Noah and Gopher.

"So," he grunted, voice sounding strained, as if just speaking was some colossal effort. "You two aren't going to breathe a single word about me being in Death City. Right?" Gopher looked to Soul with a convoluted mix of hatred and fear, holding Noah against him, and Noah held up one hand to Soul.

"I've learned enough about you to satisfy my own curiosities," he rasped, wincing as speaking strained the wound in his stomach. "You have my word, if you let us leave peacefully."

"But Master Noah–"

Noah ground his teeth together, glaring at his lackey. "We are _done here_, Gopher." And so it was; Gopher hung his head like a kicked puppy, then summoned his wings once again. "Goodbye for now," coughed Noah, and with that Gopher's wings surrounded them and they disappeared with a sickly sucking noise.

Just like that, it was over. Maka suddenly felt completely exhausted, despite having not moved at all; she slumped forward, letting her wrists against the wall hold her somewhat upright, and took a few deep and shaky breaths.

"Hey."

Maka looked up, and there in front of her stood Soul, looking a bit sheepishly down at her, hands shoved deep into his pockets. "Hey," she breathed back at him, watching his movements; he was obviously drained, and even though he was standing he still wavered slightly. "Ah... Thanks for coming for me."

A slight smile twitched the corners of his lips. "Of course," he replied, and something warm bubbled within Maka at the way he looked at her, as if his eyes were saying _there's no way I wouldn't_. "Couldn't leave you with those two sleazeballs, could I?"

It was Maka's turn to smile. "Not if you didn't want me chopping you into next year," she laughed. Soul chuckled in return, then crouched down to her level.

Ever so carefully he lifted his hands to the dark shackles that bound her. His thumb brushed gently against a band of pink and chafed skin that peeked out from beneath them, and Maka's breath hitched. Soul's eyes flickered to hers for an instant, but he quickly turned back to her wrists. Without hesitating any more Soul nipped at his index finger, drawing a small amount of blood forward. He quickly swiped his finger against the wall above Maka, and she craned her neck to see what he wrote.

_Frailty, thy name is wall_.

The wall trembled slightly, making Maka's breath hitch with surprise for a moment, and then the shaking became concentrated behind her wrists where the shackles made contact with the wall. Then her restraints vibrated around her wrists, and simply... disappeared. Maka's arms fell back down to her sides and she rolled her shoulders, stiff from being held in one position for so long.

"There," said Soul, and he stood up. One arm reached down towards Maka, and when she took his hand he pulled her upright. "Couldn't get my writing small enough to fit on the shackles, so I had to do it in a bit of a roundabout way," he grumbled, gnawing a bit on his lip. "Since the spell was to create shackles bound to the wall, I figured that getting the wall to reject them would make 'em disappear. Glad that worked out." Soul watched as Maka brushed off herself, clearing away any dust that had gathered on the seat of her clothes, and his eyes locked onto her wrists. Two angry looking bands of pink stood out starkly against her pale flesh, and he winced just looking at them. "Your wrists. Are they alright?"

"Ah..." Maka stopped to examine them for the first time. "I'm sure they'll be fine," she said, smiling wryly. "They should heal in a few days. I've had worse!"

Soul narrowed his eyes a bit. "Won't your old man want to know what happened? What're you gonna tell him?" He glanced over his shoulder at Tsubaki, who was checking Black*Star over for damage from his fight with Gopher. "I'm sure Tsubaki could give you some sort of ointment to heal 'em up right now."

Maka shook her head, pigtails whipping around. "Oh, no," she said. "I'm really okay. Promise! I'll come up with something if my papa asks."

"If you say so." Ever so gently, careful to avoid brushing against Maka's wrist, Soul reached down and twined his fingers with hers and lightly squeezed. Maka squeezed back, and they stepped through the doorway.

"Hey, uh..." Soul did not look her in the eyes, but kept his gaze trained forward. A light brushing of pink brightened his cheeks. "I'm glad you're alright. I mean, you're tough, so I knew you'd be fine, but–" He groaned, screwing his eyes shut. "God, this sounds stupid. Sorry. Forget it."

The warmth that his look had stirred up within Maka earlier came back in full force, and her cheeks quickly matched Soul's. "I– Thanks for coming for me," she stammered, trying to keep her response as basic as she could to avoid embarrassment. "I knew you would, but... really, thank you."

This time Soul did lock eyes with Maka, smiling down at her. "No problem, dorkus. I'm glad to."

The nighttime air was crisp and cold, with the sort of chill that stung. After having rested up at Soul's hideaway house, Soul was walking Maka home. Initially Maka had protested, trying to convince Soul that she was okay, it was only ten or so minutes, she had walked home alone plenty of times before. Soul was having none of that, though; he had shook his head and put on a coat, and that was that. He reasoned that maybe Gopher would be out for revenge for what happened to Noah, although the informant was probably almost fully healed by that time. It was simply a risk that he was unwilling to take, he told her, and Maka did not have it in her to fight him.

Their walk was pleasant, if a bit quiet. Maka watched Soul's breath, or lack thereof; hers came out in white foggy puffs, but Soul's was invisible, his body naturally cooler than her human one. And she thought about what Noah had told her. The possibility that Soul had cast a spell on her weighed heavily on her mind. If what Noah had said was true, it was certainly done out of worry, out of caring for her safety in a world of magic and demons, but the secretive way it had been put on her was concerning. Noah had called it a byproduct of Soul coveting her; if that was true, Maka was not completely sure how she felt about it. Some part of her was defiant, sure, unhappy at being treated like an object to be desired, but at the same time she felt a bit of satisfaction. Soul had recently been shutting her out, keeping her at arm's distance, and the resurgence of familiarity between them as a result of her kidnapping was pleasant. If he _coveted_ her, that meant that he was not trying to push her away and out of his life, that he was simply trying to keep her safe. It was a roundabout and uncommunicative way of going about it, but all the same it felt nice to be wanted.

Still, he could have _told_ her about the spell. Past the satisfaction, past the warm feelings that she shoved back down for another time, there was a stinging feeling of betrayal and distrust. Maka glanced at Soul from the corner of her eyes, watching as he looked up at the cloudy night sky. He was a demon, not a human, and perhaps it was that fact that led him to deceit. It hurt, but there was just _something_ that kept her from being truly angry.

Maybe he just felt obligated to protect her because she couldn't do it herself.

"Soul, could I learn how to use magic?" Her question was in earnest, and Maka stopped walking to watch Soul's reaction.

He stiffened and eyed her warily. "What's with that question?" he asked. "It's not like I'm gonna let anything like that happen again."

"I just don't want to be helpless," Maka pressed. "I want to be able to defend myself, so if you show me how to do it–"

"Maka," Soul interrupted, voice stiff and detached. "Don't mess with magic. You're a human with a human soul and a human body. It's... technically possible," he spared a glance at Maka, who looked eagerly at him when he said that, "but it's _dangerous_. Your soul could collapse under the strain, since most spells are pulled innately from demons' souls, and the strain on your body could easily kill you." He sighed and looked into her eyes. "I can't stop you if you plan on trying anyways, you're hard-headed and stubborn and I can't control you, but I'm not helping you. I'm not gonna help you destroy yourself."

Maka pondered that for a moment, running all of that through her mind. "Is that why earlier you...?" She trailed off, unsure of how to describe Soul's frenzy while fighting Noah.

He winced and nodded. "Yeah," he sighed, gnawing on his lip once again. "It's not like I understand it completely," he admitted. "It's probably because of how I was made; my magic isn't standard, just like my creation. Best guess I have is that it strains my soul a little too much if I overuse any of my magic, and I start to lose _me_ in it." With that he fell silent and started walking again, and Maka jogged to catch up.

It wasn't her place to intervene, but... "You know, I can help you find yourself again," she began, and then cringed. How odd did that sound? Maybe she was overestimating their friendship. But... "If you get lost, I mean. If you'll let me." Soul met her gaze, and it raised goosebumps along Maka's skin. "I don't believe that you can just disappear. I'll pull you back. I won't let you fall into it alone."

For a moment, Maka thought that Soul was going to yell at her, to call her an idiot and leave her alone on the spot. He certainly looked torn up enough to warrant that sort of reaction. But instead, he pulled her close, one arm around her waist and one hand behind her head, cradling her against him. His voice was quiet, a cool breeze brushing against her ear. "I'll leave that to you, then." He hesitated, his arms a bit looser around her, and then squeezed her tightly before stepping away. He coughed into his hand, looking away with pink tinging his cheeks. "Uh, sorry. Thanks, I guess. Let's get going again, your pops is gonna be pissed if you're any later."

And he certainly was; Maka's father, Spirit Albarn, was incensed with as much rage as he could muster at his daughter when she came home at 11:35. Soul had left her about a block away from her house, as per usual, since Maka insisted that her father would not take her coming home with a boy well. It was especially nice tonight, she thought as Spirit lectured her on the danger of being a girl alone at night. Adding a "good-for-nothing bastard" into the equation, as male friends in the past had been labeled, would have done nothing but add fuel to the fire.

"You just can't expect to be safe all the time, sweetheart, and you didn't even _call_, of course I'd worry! If anything happened to you, princess–" Spirit cut his tirade short, eyes widening. "What happened to your _wrists_?" he squeaked, anger dissipating instantly. "Sweetheart, let me see that! What did you do to them?"

Maka winced as Spirit examined the sore skin of her wrists. Soul had been right; maybe she should have let Tsubaki patch her up more than just healing the cuts from Gopher's feathers. "Ah...," she searched for an excuse. "I was out shopping today with Tsugumi, that girl from one year below me, and a few other friends and I found some really cute bracelets... I think something in the paint or varnish or _something_ gave me a weird reaction though. I must be allergic to whatever it is." The excuse was delivered smoothly, save for the hesitation at the start, and Spirit seemed to buy it. He fretted a bit longer over Maka, mumbling something about suing whatever vile company dared to mar his daughter's skin, but soon she was free to return to her room.

Just as Maka was turning to go down the hall, Spirit called out for her once more. "You should bring your friends by sometime, sweetheart. It feels like you're never home lately. I know I'm not the coolest papa out there, but I'd love to meet the friends you love spending time with so much. They sound like great people with solid heads on their shoulders."

Maka struggled not to giggle at the thought of Spirit meeting Tsubaki, Black*Star, and Soul. 'Great people' wasn't _too_ in question, but thinking of Black*Star's cocky superiority complex and Soul's unique situation and lack of knowledge of some human gestures (really, with how long he had been hiding out around humans, how did he not know what a _handshake_ was?), 'solid head on their shoulders' was a funny way to think of them. "Sure, papa. Maybe I will sometime."


	3. Chapter 3

Maka's mouth hung agape, and she stared wide-eyed at Black*Star. "_What on earth are you wearing?_" His usual outfit was strange enough, boofy two-toned black and white pants and a sleeveless black shirt with a humongous collar, but this– this _monstrosity_ in the form of clothes was far worse. It looked like Black*Star had found his outfit in a mish-mash of decades past, with purple and green plaid bell-bottomed pants, a green paisley shirt, and a jean vest. Set against a backdrop of flourishing green leaves from the springtime trees, it made for quite a spectacle.

It was _horrifying_.

Black*Star huffed, standing tall and looking down at Maka. "Excuse me, but I _think_ I know a little more about human fashion than some lowly human." He took his three companions' deadpan stares to be some sort of agreement and guffawed loudly. "That's right! Glad you all agree! The great me is ready to blend right in and be one with the humans!"

Tsubaki leaned in towards Maka to whisper to her. "Black*Star has taken an interest in human culture, whether he'll actually admit that or not. Today's outfit is the result of some, ah... not so thorough research."

It took a lot of willpower for Maka to stifle her giggle. It was certainly embarrassing to be seen with the demon in this garish ensemble, but the reasoning behind it was almost endearing. "_Sure_, Black*Star. That's definitely what you're doing." Soul snorted, and Maka smiled at him. "Alright, you're the one who wanted to meet away from the house today; what was it you had in mind?"

With a dramatic flourish, Black*Star pointed away from their current location in Death City's central park towards a nearby street littered with restaurants and shops. "We're gonna go look at your puny human stuff and you're gonna explain it to me!" he proclaimed, looking immensely proud of himself. "And lunch. Your treat. I want something greasy, something worthy enough to clog up my godly arteries!"

Tsubaki groaned at being partnered up with such a demon, but Maka laughed and began to herd her friends across the park.

"Hey. Do you have a minute?"

The trio were all startled by the voice that came suddenly from behind. Soul especially bristled, shoulders visibly tensing up as he turned around. Moments before, the park had been empty, as far as he could tell at the time, and their backs were to an open area with nowhere to hide.

The voice belonged to a young man, holding his position firmly with a wide stance and arms crossed against his chest. His hair was done up in a mix of cornrows and dreads, and winding black tattoos ran down each of his arms, but the rest of his appearance was unassuming; thick-rimmed black glasses sat across his face, and he wore a plain button-down white shirt and blue cutoff pants that came down to his shins. He warily eyed Tsubaki and Black*Star, but his gaze settled on Soul, who glared right back.

"Who's asking?" responded Soul, smoothly stepping in front of Maka. His right hand stealthily pushed up his left sleeve, and Soul dug his nails into the flesh, ready to draw blood.

The boy sucked on his teeth, making a sharp _tch_ sound. "Doesn't really matter. I'm not looking to make a scene." Just as Soul had repositioned himself, the boy took a step to the side, putting a bit more distance between himself and Black*Star and Tsubaki. "I just want something back, and it doesn't look like you're using it, so it shouldn't even be a problem."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about," Soul gritted out between his teeth, tightening his grip on his arm and letting his nails pierce skin. "Kinda rude not to introduce yourself when I ask though, right? Especially when it seems like you know me pretty well."

"I'm Kilik, if you really need to know," snapped the boy, and he held out his right hand, palm facing forward. "And you _know_ what I want!" Orange flames sprung from the tattoo that twisted down his arm, and Soul pushed Maka to the ground just in time; a fireball, shot with astounding speed, blew past them with little room to spare.

Soul jumped back up, shooting a glance at Tsubaki. "Seal this place off!" he snapped at her before pushing off the ground and running away from Maka. "Don't let any humans stumble in here!" Tsubaki nodded, brushing off Soul's sharp tone, and moved to the center of the park to cloak the entire area.

Soul's movements couldn't have come too soon. Kilik had focused the aim of his next shot on Soul exclusively, and the flames fired at Soul's running form, away from Maka's prone body. When the blast just barely blazed past Soul, slightly singing his shirt, he dropped to the ground and rolled, landing on all fours before biting firmly into his left wrist, blood pooling against his lips. The pinpricks of blood that his nails could draw were obviously not going to be enough for this opponent. He spat black blood onto the ground and glared at Kilik, watching for the next fireball.

Instead came a bolt of lightning.

"_Shit–!_"

The lightning caught Soul square in the chest, and his body arched back as he cried out in sound of Maka shouting his name was barely audible over the loud buzzing in his ears, but it was enough for Soul to force his eyes open again. Over him stood Kilik, left palm extended instead of his right. Electricity crackled against the tattoos on that arm, and Kilik scowled. "I told you, man, I didn't want to make a scene. Just _give it back_ and I'll leave you alone."

"Give _what_ back?" growled Soul, wincing as he tried to sit up. "You aren't _missing_ anything that I can see!"

Kilik's face contorted in a mix of emotions that Soul could not quite decipher, and his cheeks darkened slightly. "Just–! Dammit, man! Just give me back my tail!"

Everything fell completely silent.

Black*Star, who had been ready to spring at Kilik the moment he looked ready to attack Soul again, looked to Maka, who was looking just as confused as he was. He mouthed _did you know?_, and Maka shook her head slowly, turning to look back at Soul with a perplexed look. Both of their sets of eyes drifted to Soul, who was looking at Kilik mouth agape, and then down lower past his face...

Soul snapped his head around, face burning red. "_Quit looking_!" he practically screeched. "I do _not_!" He then took a deep breath and looked back up at Kilik, slowly standing without making sudden movements. "Sorry, bud," he said. "I don't have what you're looking for. I've got a lot of parts, but a tail isn't one of them." He stretched slowly, keeping an eye on his opponent, and shifted into a defensive stance once again.

"Don't _lie_ to me, man!" Kilik growled, raising both arms above his head. Fire and electricity crackled together, looping around each arm and then together into one surging missile. "Just give it back!"

Just as Kilik was about to launch his attack, Black*Star thudded into his side, knocking them both onto the ground. The orb of magical energy fizzled out in a sad flurry of cinders when its caster had his attention displaced. "Gotcha, sucker!" crowed Black*Star, slamming his elbow into Kilik's gut. The demon coughed loudly, air forced roughly out of him, and gasped for air. "Shouldn't have looked away from the great me!" Black*Star grinned and gave Soul a thumbs up, and Soul smiled wryly back before deepening the wounds he had already made on his arm and allowing the blood to dribble to the ground, pooling darkly before being soaked into the earth. "I got him, man! You do your thing, I've got this under control! Don't quit!" To emphasize this Black*Star clapped his hands once and focused, drawing shadows from around to bind Kilik to the ground.

The moment that the dark tendrils touched his flesh, Kilik grinned.

Without warning Black*Star was flung away by a pillar of shadows that forced him off of Kilik. The newcomer demon stood up, dusting off his pants, and laughed. "Now _this_ is a pretty cool spell!"

Maka's eyes widened when she noticed the change in Kilik. "His leg!" she shouted, and Soul and Black*Star both looked at her in confusion. "Look at it! He has a new tattoo there!"

"_Tch!_" Black*Star darted back into the fray, sidestepping Kilik's shadows with surprising agility. "What's that got to do with anything, pigtails?! He's controlling my shadows!" A burst of fire zoned him from his target, and Black*Star swore loudly.

Kilik grinned again. "She's sharp for a human. It usually takes longer for my opponents to notice." He kicked out with his left leg, freshly decorated with twisting tattoos, and shadowy tendrils shot out towards Maka. Black*Star tried to intercept them, to throw himself in the way instead, but a bolt of lightning caught him square in the chest instead, sending him tumbling to the ground. "If you hit me directly with a spell, I can absorb it myself for a while. It's usually temporary, but I happened to like Fire and Thunder here enough to make them permanent pieces of art on me."

It _really_ ground on Maka's nerves that she always seemed to end up tied up one way or another when big fights broke out, she fumed as shadows bound her body stiff as if she were tied in writhing ropes. Kilik, on the other hand, looked absolutely perplexed as he eyed Maka. "You're...?" He closed his eyes for a moment, and Maka felt something course through her, as if her energy were being drained. Suddenly, the orange sparks that she had not seen since the run in with Noah and Gopher were dancing across her skin, burning where they touched. Kilik's eyes flew open, and his mouth hung agape. "But how do you–?!"

Before Kilik could finish his question, the ground shook between him. He took a disoriented step back, eyes still locked on Maka, and then he was gone, a dome of rock and dirt roaring upward and around to contain him.

_Frailty, thy name is earth._

The shadows holding Maka withered, cut off from their master, and she shakily stood, locking eyes with Soul as she did so. He looked back at her, expression strained and tense. "Got him," he rasped, clearly tired. "Took a long time to get enough blood to control that much of the ground, but... he should be pretty solidly stuck."

As if to make Soul's point, a loud thumping came from within the dome, and a muffled voice could barely be made out. "_Dammit, let me out of here! It's dark as hell. All I want is my tail!_"

"Hey, shut up and listen." Soul rapped his fist on the mound, and Kilik fell silent for the moment. "Believe it or not, I _don't_ have your tail, okay? Cool as it might be, that's not one of the things I was lucky enough to get. I'll fucking strip for you if you want to prove it, but I _don't_ have a tail." Maka gaped at that defense, and Soul smirked at her. "Now, have you calmed down or do I need to leave you in time out for a while longer?"

There was a pause, and then another muffled reply. "_...You really don't have it?_" It was difficult to make out the sounds, much less the emotion behind them, but it sounded like Kilik was supremely embarrassed.

"Nope. Sorry, man."

"_...You can let me out._"

Maka looked to Soul, wanting to ask if it was really safe, but if Soul had any doubts he didn't show them. The dome crumbled, leaving Kilik standing in a pile of sod and dirt looking utterly humiliated.

"I, uh... Sorry," he coughed, avoiding looking at Soul or Black*Star, who had come to stand beside Soul. "Someone told me that you would have it. In exchange for that info I was supposed to tell them where you were, but I guess I was sorta being used.

Soul tensed up. "Who was trying to figure that out?" he asked, teeth grinding together. "I'd really just love some peace and quiet for once."

Kilik shrugged. "Sorry, man, I don't know. I never actually _met_ the guy. We talked through an informant named Noah a while back–" Black*Star swore and Soul growled lowly. "–but he clammed up a few months back so I've just been looking for you on my own. If you don't want to be found, though, getting out of Death City is your best bet; staying put isn't really a good idea if you're on the run, but I guess I can't blame you what with the girl there having a Grigori Soul. Shit's rare, and I guess humans can't relocate so easily."

Simultaneously, Soul and Maka both blurted out, "A _what_ soul?" Both looking bewildered, their gazes met, and then they snapped back to Kilik, who looked a bit taken aback.

"You, uh... Didn't know?" he asked Soul, who shook his head with vigor. "Well, that's awkward. I just assumed you kept a human around because– ahhhh that's a stupid thing to say, forget it." Maka bristled a bit at the unspoken implication that she wasn't anything special without the _whatever_ soul, but kept listening. At some point during the exchange, Tsubaki had drifted back in, and she placed a comforting hand on Maka's shoulder. "She's got a Grigori Soul. It's nothing particularly strong, but for a human soul it's pretty special, since they're almost never magically inclined. It just gives her a bit of protection against spells, nothing too strong though, but it still pulls from her physical strength to support it. That's what those sparks earlier were; her soul was trying to repel the shadows, and then me trying to figure out what sort of spell was on her." He hesitated, sparing Maka a glance before continuing. "But if neither of you knew about it... Shit, I dunno if I should say this. Grigori Souls in humans are only a byproduct of that human having their soul, their _essence, _tampered with fairly early on in their lives."

The world was spinning, the ground was jelly, and Maka couldn't feel her legs. Before she could fall forward, Tsubaki grabbed onto Maka by her waist and held her upright, and Maka breathed her thanks to her friend. "So that means... Soul didn't put a spell on me?" Her soul had been altered as a child, but somehow that came second to the relief of knowing that the spell, that magical resistance that Noah had called a result of Soul's covetousness, was not actually a spell; it was just her _soul_. She hadn't been betrayed, and the budding seed of distrust in her that had taken root over the past few months shriveled and died on the spot.

"You thought I _what_ now?" stammered Soul, looking at Maka as if she were an alien. "Why would I do that?! You'd crush my skull with a goddamn encyclopedia if I pulled something like that!"

Maka quickly explained what Noah had said to her all that time ago, and Soul fumed. He gritted his teeth and snarled, cursing the demon informant, but he quickly calmed down.

"I'll settle things with him eventually," growled Soul, "but I think at this point we have bigger concerns to deal with." He turned back to Kilik, this time with one arm slung protectively over Maka. "You were wondering why I was staying in Death City. Part of it is because of Maka, sure–" Maka blushed a deep red, heart hammering in her chest at the implication that she hoped she wasn't reading too far into. "–but it's also because the recipe, the explanation of how I was made, is supposedly here. I have a good reason to stick around, and I'm willing to fight for my life while I look for the recipe." He paused again, weighing his words carefully. "But if someone messed with Maka's soul, I'm making that my priority. Thanks for letting me know." His arm dropped from Maka's shoulders to hang around her waist, and he used that to guide her away. "We're out of here. 'Star, I'm sorry, but we're gonna have to put off sightseeing for a while. There's shit to be done."

Later that day, after fruitless hours of poring over Tsubaki's books that had served her so well until that point, Soul walked Maka back toward her house. The silence that had so often been calm and pleasant between them was rife with tension, and neither was making any effort to look at the other.

But then, when they reached the corner where Soul would usually leave Maka to walk the last block alone, she broke the silence.

"I think you should come by my house," she said, and her expression was flat when Soul looked to her bewildered.

"Excuse me? I thought your old man hated you hanging around boys," he scoffed, trying to be lighthearted in the tension from the day. "Of all the times to get my ass handed to me by your pops, today probably isn't the day I'd prefer."

Maka groaned. "I _know_, but... I don't know. If the tampering with my soul happened when I was little, it was probably by someone my papa knew; he hated letting strange people near me, he's always been way overprotective. I was just thinking that we could ask him... _somehow_ in a non-suspicious way, if there was ever someone that gave him bad vibes or something." She looked up at Soul, and the turmoil he saw in her eyes tore him apart.

He groaned, looking skyward to avoid Maka's gaze. "Ugh. Whatever. Fine. You come up with something good, I'll be your school-buddy or something and chill in your room while you ask, and I'll listen in for any sort of clues that could help us out. Just... don't let your old man kill me for being near you. Okay? I sorta like being alive, and dying to your dad isn't on the top of my list of ways to go."

The rest of the short walk passed quickly and in silence. Maka stepped up to the front door of her house, Soul in tow. Before her key could slip into the lock the door, and with hardly enough time for Soul to grab her arm and pull her back, the door swung open, slamming against the house with a bang. Spirit stood in the doorway, eyes blazing and nostrils flaring, and Maka stammered, searching for an appropriate reaction. "Papa, it's not what you think, we're not dating–"

"_Get away from him_," growled Spirit, looming high at his full height. His entire body was tense, and Maka felt a chill of fear surge through her blood, a feeling she had never felt in the presence of her _father_ before.

Maka shifted to better block Soul away from her father. "Papa, you don't understand, he's just a friend–"

"He is not your _friend_! He is an _abomination, a mistake, an unwanted soul! He will kill you–!" _

Before Spirit could finish roaring, Soul had swapped positions with Maka, pulling her behind him. Soul's eyes were blown wide, and his heart sank. "No way," he whispered, head swirling. "No fucking way. You're not him. You're _not him_, why are you saying it like him...?!" He whirled around to face Maka, looking like a cornered animal but still putting himself between his perceived danger and her. "Maka, _why is he talking like Eibon?!_" Vague memories, memories that he had pushed far away, of a scientist's mad ravings, of broken glass and screaming, of being called a mistake, flooded Soul's mind, and he bit back screams.

Spirit shouted again, lunging forward, and Soul took a staggering step backward. "Maka," he said, voice breaking. "You have to choose. Right now. You have to choose who you're going with, because I am fucking _out of here_. I don't want to leave you, but I can't stay here. I don't know what's going on. Your dad is batshit, your dad is _him,_ and I _can't be here_."

There was only a moment's hesitation, the hardest moment, and then Maka wrapped her arms around Soul's waist, grabbing onto him tightly. "_Go_," she whispered, and the world warped around them.

The last thing she heard before she was torn away from her doorstep was her father's screams of "_He'll kill you! He will kill you, Maka!"_

It was over an hour before either of them spoke.

Soul locked himself in his room right away, and nothing Black*Star said could coax him out. Likewise, Maka was practically catatonic on the couch, the tears streaming down her face and trembling of her shoulders being the only sign of her consciousness. After her initial attempts at catching Maka's attention, Tsubaki gave in and settled down next to her friend, one hand over Maka's for whatever comfort it could offer. Black*Star tried to offer Soul consolation in his own yell-and-pound-on-your-door way, but he gave up and adopted a stance of "he'll get over it when he gets over it" after the wall next to the door punched him.

The first words out of Maka's mouth, when the tears finally dried on her cheeks, were a trembling whisper. "I need to talk to Soul." Tsubaki hesitated for a moment, unsure if she should speak, but all she did was lift her hand from Maka's and nod.

Maka stood, and like an empty husk she drifted to Soul's door. Her knuckles only rapped on the door once, barely any force behind the knock, before the lock clicked and the door swung open. Soul sat on his bed, head buried in his hands, but the door had opened and he had not forced her away, so Maka stepped in. The door clicked shut behind her.

The silence that hung between them was heavy, thicker than it had ever been. Still, Maka moved to stand beside Soul's bed, and she gently pulled her fingers through Soul's hair, undoing the knots that he had put there by messing with it himself. They stayed like that for a while, her fingers running through his locks and his hands slowly slipping from their grips until they fell to his lap.

Only then did Soul speak. "Your dad's him," he whispered, and the raw sound of his voice told her that he had been crying. "Your dad is Eibon, the guy who made me. Somehow. I don't know how. It doesn't make _sense_, Eibon died like seventy years ago, but he _is,_ that was all stuff he said to me when I first started to– to _exist_. And he knew me. He _knew_ me, Maka. He knew who I was, that I am Eibon's creation, and the way he _spoke_–!" Soul's voice broke and he screwed his eyes shut. Maka left one hand against his head, still running through his hair, but the other dropped to stroke his cheek. Even when she felt moisture against her thumb, she didn't stop her movements, and eventually Soul's gently shaking shoulders stilled. "You know that he's probably the one who messed with your soul, right?"

Maka didn't hesitate. "Yeah," she whispered back, and her forehead fell to rest against the top of Soul's head. "I don't really want to believe it, but... that was pretty damning." She laughed wryly, thinking of her father's face contorted with rage like she had never seen before. "I never would've thought... Soul, I had no idea."

"I know." This time it was Soul's turn to notice wetness, feeling it against his scalp. "He was always good at fooling people."

Maka stood straight again, wiping her eyes and sniffling. "Soul," she whispered, and her voice was nervous, tentative. "What did he mean, that you'd kill me?"

Soul shook his head, slowly at first but then with more vigor. "He's wrong," he sighed. "I wouldn't. I don't think I could, even in my worst moments." And Maka believed him. "But... and this is a stretch, and I don't even know if what I'm thinking is _possible_, but he might have been talking about your soul." He looked up, looked into Maka's eyes and read her confusion. "When I finally caught wind of the recipe being here, in Death City, I was told that it had been here for at least a decade. How it flew under my radar for that long I don't know, but that doesn't matter now. Maka, I think he bound the recipe to your soul." Her eyes lit up with an inkling of understanding, but he had to get it out into the open, she had to know what she was dealing with. "Your life _is_ the recipe now."

He could hear her heart beating erratically from where she stood. "So what now?" she whispered, as if she was afraid to raise her voice.

Soul sighed. "You choose what you want," he said, voice quiet and defeated. "You'll have to choose, and chances are what you pick will shake things up for the rest of your life." He met her gaze, and for once, the great and fearless Maka Albarn looked scared. "If you go back there, your dad isn't gonna want you hanging around me. If you stay here, he'll probably come after you. You need to take a good look at your options, Maka."

"I love my father," she said, and her voice was no longer soft. "I do. I really do. He's a sleazeball and a pervert and a cheater, and apparently he's been fooling me for all this time." She paused for a moment. "But he's my papa, and I can't hate him. Just like I can't hate my mama, even though she left."

It certainly hurt, hearing her choice. Soul hung his head ever so slightly. It was to be expected, though. He was dangerous, he wasn't human, and he hadn't even been in her life for more than half a year. Still, it stung, but Maka had the right to choose.

"But even so, I don't want to leave you. I like you. A lot." Soul's head snapped up, and Maka was looking at him with a sad smile. "I probably like you more than I should, if I'm honest with myself," she confided, and her smile tugged a bit wider. "So, I don't want to leave here. I like this life, being with you. Maybe _you_ should be the one thinking of what you want out of life."

Soul had to fight to keep the ridiculous hope he suddenly felt out of his voice. "You're crazy, you know that?" Maka giggled and nodded slightly. "You can't have both. That's not one of the options. Things don't work that way."

Her eyes gleamed as if she had been challenged, even with sadness and betrayal still haunting her. "Who says I can't try?" she quipped. "Even if it fails in the end... I still don't want to give up on it. Not yet." Soul laughed, and she stuck her tongue out at him. "What should I do? What do I need to do to have both?"

It was Soul's turn to reach up to Maka's cheek. She leaned into his touch, skin hot against his cool. Without needing to be guided, Maka sat next to him and looked into his eyes. Soul's thumb traced along her skin, from the corner of her eye to the corner of her lip, and he felt her mouth twitch with a small smile.

"I don't know," he breathed, leaning forward. "But you've already got me, no questions asked."

And he kissed her.


	4. Chapter 4

When Maka got home two days later, Spirit was sitting in his favorite armchair in the living room. A cup of Maka's favorite tea was sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch, and she took it and sat down without missing a beat. "You knew I was coming?" she asked, hoping that it sounded offhanded enough.

"I did," replied Spirit, and he took a sip of his own tea. "I had someone be on the lookout for you."

"Noah?"

"Good guess."

Maka gripped her cup tighter. "So you've known where I was the whole time?"

Spirit sighed and set down his cup. "Yes, sweetheart. I wish you hadn't met him, though."

She took a long sip out of her mug before responding, taking the time to choose her words. The tea burnt her tongue, grounding her thoughts. "He's not a danger to me, papa, no matter what you did to my soul."

Again Spirit sighed. "So you found that out? Is that what you were doing at Stein's place yesterday?"

Maka nodded. "Just to confirm." Her eyes stayed trained on her father. "But he's not going to hurt me. If you just reverse it, take the recipe off of my soul, you wouldn't even have to worry at all about it–"

"It's _not_ about the recipe."

Their eyes met, daughter to father, and what Maka saw in Spirit's eyes was frightening. He was steeled and unwavering, unlike the father she had known all this time; the Spirit that Maka grew up with was a flake, noncommittal and skittish to the core. To see him in this light, as such a different person, made her heart sink and her head spin.

Or... was something else making her head spin?

Even after taking a deep breath, Maka's world still was hazy and tilting. A jolt of adrenaline was pumped into her bloodstream, and her eyes snapped back up to Spirit's, focusing away from the spinning floor. "You didn't...?" she asked, question unfinished.

Spirit stood up and walked to Maka's side just as she slumped onto the couch, barely conscious any longer. Her mug slipped from her loose fingers, smashing on the floor. "I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured, sounding truly remorseful. "It isn't about the recipe. It wasn't, at least. It never was supposed to be, but somehow I got more invested in this life than I expected." His fingers gently brushed Maka's bangs away from her eyes. "I'm sorry, princess. Everything just fell into place so suddenly."

The last things that Maka could process before slipping into darkness were the warmth of her father's kiss against her forehead, just like he used to do when she was sick, and a whisper of "I'm sorry."

Then it was all black, the same color as Soul's blood.

"Hey, Soul!"

Soul startled slightly, broken out of his thoughts as he wandered through Death City. He looked around, and down the street he saw Kilik. The demon waved his arm at Soul, trying to catch his attention, so he sighed and walked over. "You need something?"

Kilik scoffed. "You looked like you were about to walk into traffic, man. What's eating you?" When Soul shrugged as his only response, Kilik took a different approach, one that he suspected would push a few buttons. "Where's your human girl, by the way? Last time I saw you, it looked like you weren't ever gonna let her out of your sight."

Judging by the way that Soul tensed up, Kilik could tell that he had hit a nerve, exactly as he had planned. "She's gone for a while," grumbled Soul, making a point to look away from the other demon. "She went to try to make peace with her dad."

"Her dad?" echoed Kilik, looking at Soul strangely. "Then what's got your panties in a twist? She'll be back soon enough."

Soul flinched again. "It's not that simple," he ground out between his teeth, now glaring at Kilik. "Her dad is the one who fucked with her soul–" Kilik whistled and grimaced. "–and he's somehow tied in with the guy who made me, too. Last I saw, he wasn't thrilled that she was spending time around me. There's a good chance that shit's gonna go down one way or another, and she's gonna be smack dab in the middle of it. And I'm not _there_." The last phrase was spat out as if it tasted foul, as if it was something that Soul couldn't stand.

"So, why don't you just go to her? Even a blind guy can tell you're head over heels for her."

Soul groaned. "Am I that transparent?"

"Like water, man."

"Lovely." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Maybe Eibon, her dad, whoever, isn't gonna do anything to her, she'll spout her sappy friendship stuff at him, and all this is gonna work out okay."

Kilik watched Soul's hands fall limp by his sides after finishing his thoughts. He didn't even believe what he was saying. "Soul, listen," said Kilik. "I think you should follow your instincts on this one. You haven't survived this long on just luck. He jeopardized her _soul_, played with it for his own gain, whatever the reason. Are you really sure he's just got her best interests in mind? Can you actually believe that?"

He really couldn't. And that was terrifying.

It took three hours to find them.

The sun was setting over the desert horizon, a few miles outside of Death City, when Soul found the entrance to Spirit's hideout, shadow masters and Kilik in tow. Maka's house had been predictably empty, although Soul had held out a bit of hope that he had nothing to worry about. There were, however, slight traces of spells lingering throughout the house, remnants of observation charms Spirit had clumsily put up before disappearing.

It was those traces that led them to Spirit, thanks to Tsubaki. She had gathered all the remnants of the spells and used them to gather Spirit's magical "essence," unique as a human's fingerprint. False positives popped up all over town, in places that Spirit had been within the past few days, but it eventually led them out of the city and into the desert.

The hideout looked more like a bomb shelter than anything else from the outside.

Soul pried open the wooden door in the ground, letting it fall open to the dirt with a loud thump. Sparing only a moment to look inside, Soul dropped down, landing inside and glancing around.

Huh. It really _was_ a bomb shelter, or it started as one. Go figure.

The inside was extremely bare, spare for a few shelves filled with dusty books. While the others dropped down, Soul made his way to the other side, where a metal door stood out against the wall. Without waiting, he wrenched the door open and pressed forward into a dark tunnel. The four had walked for less than a minute before Soul hit another door in the dark. He swore quietly and the whole group stepped back so the door could swing towards them.

It led to a surprisingly spacious room that resembled a mix between a library and a laboratory. In the center was Maka, still and on her back on a table littered with glyphs and runic circles.

Without hesitation, Soul closed the gap between them and lifted Maka's shoulders off of the table. Her eyes were shut, as if she were asleep, but her skin was still warm. She was alive. That was a good start. He pulled her tight against his chest and thanked whatever was out there that he had gotten there in time.

"You're a bit earlier than I expected, but that's more than alright."

Soul gently laid Maka back down before snarling and turning to face the source of the voice. "Eibon," he spat in greeting.

Spirit stepped out from behind a bookshelf on the far side of the room. "Soul," he replied. "Whether it was for her or for the recipe, I'm glad you could make it."

Soul's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. "What did you do to Maka?" he growled, standing protectively in front of her. His companions shifted to stand closer, within acting distance if anything happened. "She's your _daughter_, or was that an act, too? That's a dick move, you know. She really loves you."

"She's just asleep right now," said Spirit, walking toward some sort of table-length box covered with a sheet. "And it wasn't an act; I love her, too. The circumstances are just unfortunate. It was bad luck that I am in the position of her father, and worse that she met you." Soul flinched back, but Spirit continued. "You're right, I am Eibon. But this body has been mine for sixteen years now, so for the majority of Maka's life, I have been her father. I wasn't ready to die when I did seventy four years ago, and when Spirit Albarn had a heart attack while visiting my old home with his wife... Well, I wasn't going to pass up the opportunity."

Soul's stomach lurched. "So you stole his body?" he asked, feeling ill at the thought.

Spirit tilted his head and grimaced. "You _could_ call it that, I suppose," he mused. "But Spirit Albarn did die back then; I simply... moved in to an empty space. Of course, I was not him, and try as I might I couldn't _be_ him, good at acting or not. His wife –my ex-wife, I suppose– was unable to stay in love with me when Spirit's personality changed so wildly, so I ended up tearing apart Maka's family. Soon after the divorce, I transferred the recipe to Maka's soul. She was still young enough to not notice much of a difference in me, and she trusted me blindly. She was supposed to be a pawn for me, a means to an end and nothing more." He gazed forlornly at Maka then, still and spellbound. "I didn't mean to get attached to her, to care for her, but it happened anyway."

"Then _why_ are you doing this?" ground out Soul, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to lunge at Spirit, to tear him apart. "If you care about her, you should have just let her be!"

"I can't do that," stated Spirit, and his warm tone turned chilly. "I may love Maka, but she is not my child. I _must_ save my child."

It felt like time froze for a moment, and then Soul was shouting. "What the hell are you talking about?! You don't _have _a child! I was there! I never saw you with a kid, and you never left your goddamn lab! All you wanted to do was experiment on me, and you were mad. Absolutely bonkers, off your rocker. It was a fucking miracle I managed to escape, you had so many things designed to keep things _out!_"

Spirit watched Soul with a collected expression. "You're not entirely wrong," he said, and his fingers brushed the edges of the cloth covering the box. "When _you_ were there, my child was not. They couldn't be, that's not how it worked." He leveled his gaze at Soul once again. "Would you like to hear their story?"

There was no other choice but to say yes, was there?

So Spirit began.

"You weren't there to see what led up to your creation. I had been dabbling in all things demonic for years before, and being human, that drew all sorts of attention to me. One such source of attention was a female demon named Medusa. She seemed very interested in my experiments, and she spent most of her time in my lab with me. It was an amazing time; I had never had someone understand my research before that time, and I'm sure I'll never experience it again. I fell in love with her, and she led me to believe that she was in love with me, too. But she was just using me for her own experiment.

"It turned out that Medusa had an interest in halfbreeds. She wanted to have a half-human half-demon test subject, something to experiment on until she was satisfied with the results. She used me to get that child. And she deemed it a failure. The child, _my_ child, Crona, was not satisfactory to Medusa. They were chaotic and unstable, even from birth, thanks to their halfling body; you see, a half-demon body cannot handle the strain of a demonic soul, and it drove poor Crona to madness. There was very little chance to mold and control them, and this was not what Medusa needed. She wanted a pliable subject, something she could twist into whatever she needed. So, she disposed of Crona and left me crying over my child's body.

"That's when it dawned on me. I had a vast collection of demonic parts from past experiments. I could _give_ Crona a proper body, one that could support their soul. I set to work before their soul could decay, and within a full day I had a shell ready. Crona would live again. Crona could have a proper life in a body that suited them, and they would not have to bend to Medusa's abuse. I introduced their soul into the body.

"You, Soul... the _unwanted soul_, as you pulled your name from... you were the hitch in my plan, an unaccounted for possibility that should never have happened. The shock of Crona's soul being introduced to the body let off unexpectedly large amounts of magical energy, and with it all being forced into one body's worth of space, it condensed into what became your soul. You stole my child from me, became the dominant of the two souls in the body, and eventually suppressed Crona completely. _That _is the story in the recipe, Soul. Not only what parts created you, but how _you _came to illegitimately be."

Spirit jerked his hand, and the cover flew away, revealing a glass case beneath. In it laid a pale body with lavender hair swathed in conservative black robes. Spirit placed both hands on a spell circle that was etched into the top of the glass, and blue sparks erupted against his palms. "Today," he breathed, "I take back my child's soul."

Maka shot upright, suddenly breathing heavily. "Soul?" she gasped, eyes wide as they swung around, taking in the room. "Why are you here– where _is_ here?" Soul simply gathered her in his arms and glared at Spirit without answering, waiting for him to explain his actions.

"I'm sorry, princess," said Spirit, and his voice was truly remorseful. "But to free my child's soul, Crona's soul, from that mistake of a creation, your soul's power is necessary. The recipe and your soul; together they are enough to eliminate Soul from existence, finally letting Crona be free again." He smiled sadly, opening the glass case and hoisting Crona's body into his arms. "I'm sorry that your life has to be forfeit for this."

Soul snapped.

He lunged at Spirit from across the room, teeth ripping into his own arm and preparing blood blades mid-dash, but Black*Star was faster. He hooked his arms around Soul's and yanked back, pulling Soul down to the ground. Spirit looked down at Soul with disdain before stepping past them, past Maka, past Tsubaki and Kilik, to stand in the doorway that led to the shelter. "I'll be waiting up there," he said. "The rest of you may kill me later if you wish. I'm sure I deserve it. But Crona _will_ live again." With that, Spirit disappeared into the shadows and the door swung shut.

It was quiet in the room. Soul no longer struggled against Black*Star's grip, Maka sat stunned on the table, and Kilik and Tsubaki looked at each other hopelessly.

Soul broke the silence when he stood up. "Thanks, 'Star," he grunted. "I appreciate it."

Black*Star sighed and pushed himself off the floor. "Man, this is just the shittiest situation," he groaned. "I _wanted_ to let you tear him to shreds –he's such a scumbag, nothing would've made me happier– but man, whenever you planned on breaking your vow to not actually kill in front of Maka, I don't think that her old man is the one to do it with."

"Yeah," muttered Soul, and he scooched next to Maka on the table. Black*Star shot Tsubaki a helpless look, and she gestured for him to come to her side.

"I think we need to let them have a bit of privacy, or as much as we can," she said, and it was clear that she was fighting back tears. Kilik and Black*Star nodded numbly, and the three fell back to a far corner.

Before silence could really settle back in, Soul explained to Maka what Spirit, _Eibon_, had revealed. Maka closed her eyes and took a shaky breath. "I'm sorry, Soul," she whispered. "If you hadn't met me, you wouldn't be in this situation. You would've moved past Death City by now, and my papa would be none the wiser. We wouldn't be waiting for my soul to _expire_ and kill us both." Her voice hitched, unable to fight back cracking any more, and the first of many tears spilled down Maka's cheeks.

Soul shook his head and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away Maka's tears. "Shhh. No. Don't be sorry," he said. His lips pressed against her cheek, "I don't care, Maka," her nose, "I don't want to have left Death City," and her forehead. "I don't regret a minute of it, okay? Because I got to meet you, and you taught me _so much_. You taught me what it was like to be accepted, to actually relax, to _care_ about someone. And I wouldn't trade that for anything. I stopped caring about the recipe a while back, as long as I have you near me." For the second time, his lips brushed against hers, soft and pleading for her to understand. "Okay, Maka?"

Through her tears, Maka nodded. She tried to touch Soul's cheek, to cradle his head against her, but her arm flopped limply by her side. Soul grimaced and lifted her arm for her, leaning into her touch.

"There's probably not much time left before your soul burns itself out," he sighed, pressing a kiss to the inside of Maka's wrist. "I guess I should get started now." Soul hopped off of the table after setting Maka's arm back down gently onto the table. "Kilik, could you give me a hand over here?"

Maka stammered, trying to ask what Soul was planning, but her head felt woozy. The words simply didn't come out.

Kilik ran over, quickly standing by Soul. He nodded at whatever he was told, secrets whispered in hushed tones, but his expression was pained, as if he wasn't completely confident in whatever Soul planned. Still, he took Soul's hand when it was held out for a handshake, and Soul sincerely thanked him.

"Thanks, man. It means everything to me."

Before Maka could register his movement, Kilik was behind Maka, hands on her shoulders steadying her. In front of her, Soul unbuttoned the his shirt halfway down, then carefully cut his left arm with his fingernails and smeared the black blood into his right hand. The blood was then wiped across his clavicle.

Before he did any more, Soul smiled at Maka, and it was then that her stomach plummeted.

It took a colossal effort, but Maka forced out words from her throat. "What... are you doing with that blood, Soul?" she gasped, eying the fresh amount he swiped onto his index finger. She raised one shaky arm and grabbed his, futilely trying to stem the bleeding.

His left hand covered hers, and somehow it didn't feel so cold to Maka's touch. "I'm sorry I didn't do this earlier," he said. "You're suffering, and it's my fault." His right hand moved to write on his chest, the black streaking ominously across his skin. "This time with you really was the best it could've been for me, Maka. Just... remember that, okay?" He sighed as he finished writing the spell. "Even if my name was a mistake, just like my existence, at least I can go feeling good about myself." He locked eyes with Kilik, who nodded and tightened his grip on Maka, and a faint golden glow surrounded his hands on her shoulders.

She saw the writing too late.

Before she could cry out, Kilik had already absorbed and projected the Grigori Soul's protection onto Maka, fortifying her soul against the backlash of Soul's decision, and the spell was cast.

_Frailty, thy name is Soul_.

His body collapsed to ash before her eyes, and even through her exhaustion, Maka screamed.

Kilik released her shoulders, and Maka scrambled forward –when had she gotten that strength back?–, dropping off the table to kneel in front of the pile of dust that was once Soul. She screamed obscenities, cursing his name, her father, the world, and her tears pooled on the floor.

Tsubaki and Black*Star cautiously approached, and Tsubaki laid a hand on Maka's shoulder. "He broke the spell," she whispered, but even whispers couldn't hide the hitches in her voice as she cried. "Maka, he saved you."

"I don't _care!_" Maka's scream was shrill, and her voice cracked harshly. "It doesn't _matter _if he saved me, he isn't here!" Her fist slammed into the concrete floor, and she keened. "Soul, you _bastard!_"

Maka's cries abruptly halted when a round bubble, glowing a pale blue, shimmered and rose up from the ashes. Tsubaki's breath caught in her throat, and Black*Star voiced what she could not say. "It's... his soul." With that, Maka's hands shot out, grabbing the orb and cradling it against her chest. Instead of screaming, instead she began to hiccup, tears streaming freely down her cheeks.

Tsubaki opened her mouth to speak, to comfort Maka, but a black mass burst forth from the ashes similar to the previous soul but more _chaotic_. It didn't float gently upward, instead flinging itself around the room, knocking into anything in its way. Kilik was almost knocked aside by its erratic flight, but as quickly as it appeared the second soul disappeared through the door out with a _shloop_.

Far away, a scream could be heard.

Maka tried to stem her tears, wiping them away with one hand while the other cradled what was left of Soul. Her tears mixed with the drying blood on her hand, smudging black across her cheeks and letting it drip down her wrist.

_His blood_?

Maka's head snapped up, eyes wild, and she looked up to Tsubaki. "His blood," she cried, waving around her hand for emphasis. "We have his blood. Tsubaki, if you help me, we might be able to–!"

Tsubaki caught on immediately, although she spared a concerned glance to the door. "It _could_ work," she breathed, eying the blood on Maka's hand. "It could, if there's enough blood. My soul isn't compatible with his spell I'm sure, but if it just has to be the catalyst to _fix_ something, return it to how it was, just maybe..."

Maka nodded furiously, and with a bit of reluctance she buried the soul back into the ashes, covering it carefully. Both hands now free, she let her tears, still flowing, fall into her bloody hand while the other mixed them, creating a dark mixture of tears and blood. Maka's hand trembled as she wrote, but the letters were legible. Tsubaki held her palms over the makeshift spell target, and they glowed a warm yellow.

"Please," whispered Maka, "come back. Soul, please come back."

_Frailty, thy name is Soul_.

There was no reaction for a few seconds, and Maka was ready to redouble her efforts in crying, but then the ashes began to shift. And swirl. And take a form.

"_Soul!_"

Just as he fully emerged, barely put back together again, Soul was knocked over by Maka throwing herself onto him. His breath, hardly restarted, hitched for a moment, and then he pulled her tightly against himself, hugging her just as snugly as she did to him. "I'm back," he murmured into her hair, and Maka nodded against his shoulder, nestling her head against him.

Kilik cleared his throat after a minute had passed. "Ehem. Sorry to interrupt, and I actually mean that since this is pretty touching, but we probably have a situation to deal with upstairs." He looked toward the door, and faint crashes and screams could be heard through it. "I think Eibon is having a rough time."

Tears barely halted, Maka untangled herself from Soul and they both stood.

It was time to face Spirit, alive and well.

But they didn't expect him to come to them. The door suddenly slammed open, making everyone jump, and Spirit stumbled through. He looked absolutely ragged; his black jacket was torn down one sleeve, his pants were coated in dust and similarly ripped, and blood dripped from his temple and down his arm. His eyes were wild, sad and frightened. "Crona," he gasped, and then cried out in pain. "I was too late. Crona is– they're gone, this isn't them, it's nothing but madness–!" Spirit then collapsed onto the floor, writhing. Maka ran to his side, Soul reluctantly following. Spirit looked at Maka and winced. "I'm so sorry, Maka," he groaned, eyes screwing shut. "It was a mistake, it isn't even a soul anymore, I should never have..." His voice trailed off and his eyes snapped back open, staring at Maka and then Soul. "You're both...?" he coughed, and then he smiled. "Good. Maybe I didn't make as horrible of a mistake as I had thought. At least I can go knowing that."

Maka shook her head and grabbed at Spirit's hand. "Papa, you aren't going anywhere!" she cried, seemingly forgetting that this same man had tried to kill her and _had_ killed Soul. "What happened? What happened to Crona's soul?"

Soul answered for Spirit. "It went in him," he croaked, throat feeling tight. The way that Spirit writhed was all too familiar, reminding Soul of how he used to lose control of his body in his first few years. "Crona's soul is taking over Spirit's body, and it's going to kill him. And then it will burn out itself; it can't survive in a human body."

Maka looked wildly to Spirit, pleading for him to deny Soul's words, but he grimaced and confirmed it. Crona's soul had missed its target body with its erratic movements, and it had forced its way into Spirit's body instead. "I came down here hoping that your friends would have mercy and kill us together," he rasped. "I didn't expect to find either of you alive, but I don't have the time to listen to how this came about. I'm just... glad."

Black*Star stepped forward, pushing past Kilik to stand at Spirit's feet. He eyed the man coldly, and waited for a spastic fit to subside before he spoke. "Old man, you're a gonner," he said, and while Maka protested tearfully Spirit nodded. "And you want to let that other thing die, too." Another nod. "I'll help you. Not because I give a rat's ass about you, or because I think you deserve it, but because I don't want that _thing_ to escape, and I don't want Maka to have to watch." Shadows began to slither from the hallway into the room's light, and they lashed Spirit to the floor. "We'll make sure it burns out, so you can go resting easy." He looked to Soul, and nodded his head towards Maka. "Take her. You don't want her here for this, right?"

He was right. Soul gathered Maka in his arms despite her protests, and he left through the door, slamming it shut behind him.

In a way, three beings died that day. Spirit Albarn's body was finally put to rest; the scientist Eibon was released from his personal life in purgatory; and Crona, the half-demon that was not meant to exist, fizzled out of existence.

In the moment that Spirit, Eibon, however he was to be seen, passed on, Maka was overcome with what felt like decades of mourning being lifted away.


	5. Epilogue

"You sure you're alright, Maka?" Soul gently nudged her and glanced at her, trying to catch a peek at her face. "It's okay to be upset. Putting your old man to rest is a big deal."

"Mmm..." Maka hummed in what sounded like assent, although Soul didn't doubt that she was still sad. "I think I'm okay," she said, and while her smile was a bit strained it was also genuine. "He was happy when he died. I miss him, I miss him a lot, but... he must have been carrying a lot of sadness for all that time, Soul. He deserves to finally rest."

Despite all that Eibon had put them through, both as himself and as Spirit Albarn, Soul couldn't help but agree. "Yeah. You're right." He reached down and tangled his fingers with Maka's. "Still, though, it's okay to be sad. I'm here if you need me."

She nodded, then she twisted her face into mock discomfort. "I'm okay, but _geez! _Warm yourself up, it's chilly enough out this morning already! I don't need your ice fingers making me even colder!"

Soul snickered, playing along and pulling his fingers away from hers. "Yeah, because air temperature is _so_ bad compared to... the air. Sure. You know, _I _should be the one complaining!" he exclaimed. "It's not fair that you're the warm one when you're more of a demon than I am!"

Soul definitely deserved the pocket dictionary to the skull that he got, and he feigned deep pain. "_Ow_," he yelped. "That _hurts_, Maka! See, that's exactly what I mean!" And he stuck his tongue out at her, scrunching up his face. When Maka protested his teasing, he pulled her close instead, lifting her and spinning her around once. He pressed his lips to her forehead once her feet were solidly back on the ground, and they lapsed into a comfortable silence as they walked through the abandoned neighborhood.

Before they reached the house's yard, Soul stopped, pulling on Maka's hand to get her to notice. She looked at him quizzically, and he looked to the sky, cheeks turning pink. "I wanted to answer back when you first asked," he admitted, avoiding looking into Maka's eyes. "But a lot happened, and I couldn't just _say_ it, so now will have to do."

"Answer what?" asked Maka, reaching to touch his cheek, and Soul met her gaze. That warmth that she used to try to ignore bloomed once again within her chest, and she smiled.

Soul leaned in to Maka's ear. "What I want out of life," he whispered. "I finally can give you my answer without holding back. Wanna hear it?"

Maka's smile was vibrant in the spring morning sunlight. "I'd love to."

He grinned widely.

This was pretty cool.


End file.
